Fading Daylight
by borgprincess
Summary: COMPLETE! Janeway's dying and she kept it from everyone who mattered, don't worry, it gets worse then she gets better. JanewayChakotay romance...
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I mention that Janeway has known Tuvok for fifteen years, as in 'Fury' it is mentioned they have known each other approximately twenty. However, I choose to discount the 'Revulsion' conflicting statement that their association has been for nine years instead. I want to play the angle of Janeway from 'Shattered'; I don't think the writers explored it well enough…And as usual, the timeline has been twisted, the usual 'Kellin, Riley, Kaschyk and Michael don't exist' but also including a displaced 'Collective', when the Borg kids were brought aboard, from having occurred during the sixth season, to during the fourth. I felt that Janeway suffering for four years at the least was rather excessive.

Prologue Fading Daylight

Janeway fought to steady her hand as her body shuddered under the onslaught of pain. Gritting her teeth, she at last managed a stable enough grip to administer the hypospray. Curling up against a wall in her bedroom, she waited out the spell.

The Doctor contacted her at one stage, but Janeway quickly assured him in a steely tone that she was taking her medication and would prefer to recover in her quarters. She also conveyed to him that interference would not be appreciated.

"Besides, Doctor, what really could you do?" she asked. "And you know the rumour mill around here; it just wouldn't be worth it."

"Very well, Captain," the hologram agreed finally, in a troubled tone. "Sickbay out."

Janeway dropped her head back on her knees, the energy she had experienced while arguing with the Doctor evaporating. It was troubling the strength and quantity of medication she had been forced to take. Her illness, having troubled her for a long time, was accelerating quickly in severity. Her continued survival had ever been in doubt, and now more so. The time had come, it seemed, to let some trusted few know.

She grimaced at the mere thought of moving and then smoothed her expression, closing her eyes and concentrating on mastering herself. Not for the first time, she wished for the detachment of Vulcans, the ability to distance herself from herself.

If only…but she isolated that wistful thought and dismissed it. It was impractical- inefficient, as Seven would say, to dwell on what was beyond her control. She could not alter her circumstances, so she would not obsess over the matter, centre her life around it and in doing so, give up more of herself to something that had already claimed too much from her…

hinking in this strain for a few moments, Janeway was startled to realize that her normally

sharp senses had taken a brief detour; the sudden realization caused the drowsiness that had overcome her to pass as she was shocked back to full consciousness with an involuntary flinch. She called to the computer for the time, and realized that more than an hour had passed in those 'few moments'. It was a further sign of the physical deterioration of her body, she knew, and despised that weakness.

At last, she mustered the energy to move, and she made her way to stand outside Chakotay's door. She wondered absently what was taking so long for him to respond, and then heard mingled laughter from the inside. Who was he with?

Curiosity stirred into life- at least it took some edge off the lingering pain- and Janeway was quick to enter when Chakotay finally answered, "Come in." Looking around, she saw him with two unlikely females-

"Naomi? Mezoti?"

"Hi, Captain!" Naomi greeted her cheerfully, echoed by her friend in a less enthusiastic voice. Mezoti, while growing fully into her childhood, was still capable of reticence at times.

"I was just telling them a story," Chakotay said, face expressionless. "Was there something you wanted, Captain?"

Janeway studied him, and for a moment, felt regret over the decision she had made a few

years back. The friendship and support that would have been available to her, that he still

offered at times, may have moderated the sharp edge of her ailment. But, at first, her

thought had been for him; she would never want him to suffer right alongside her, only able to watch her die slowly…and afterwards, she had managed to cope with it in her own way. She no longer needed him, and she reminded herself of that.

"Captain?" there was a trace of concern in his voice this time that he could not hide, and

Janeway was discomfited at this evidence of the generosity of his spirit. It reminded her

that despite the numerous times she had increased the distance between them, either by sheer stupidity or deliberately, for his own sake and for hers, Chakotay still cared about her.

_Was_ there something?" he repeated.

aneway glanced thoughtfully at the two girls beside him, looking at home cuddled to

his side. They carefully avoided expressing their dismay over her interruption but she could tell they felt it. As she suddenly felt a stab of pain. _So soon after the treatment? _Her brow furrowed. This was not a good sign- her condition was increasing its hold over her.

"No, Commander, it can wait," she covered, not letting on her distress. "I'll brief you along with the senior staff tomorrow," Janeway said, nodding at him. "Good night, all of you." She dredged up a convincing smile with the ease of long practise at maintaining composure at the expense of her true feelings, and then left.

As they watched the Captain leave, Mezoti spoke up, "Commander, the Captain did not wish to speak with us present."

It was a question presented as a statement. The young girl, a former Borg drone, was still a little insecure when it came to her position on Voyager, and her stilted manner expressed her concern that she was in the way, something that she could not bear. She knew that she owed much to Voyager's crew and this knowledge sometimes prompted her to withdraw behind walls of polite detachment and willing seclusion.

"I agree with her assessment," Naomi added solemnly.

Naomi Wildman, who formerly staked a claim on being the only child on the ship, had taken to the girl immediately, and her friendship aided Mezoti's adjustment to her new life. Still, Chakotay worked on reassuring her that she had a home with the crew.

"Well, if it was something urgent, I'm sure she would have spoken to me," Chakotay said in a suitably grave tone. "And she said she would brief the Senior Staff tomorrow morning anyhow."

"You'll stay with us?" Naomi asked.

"Of course."

A shy smile graced Mezoti's face, and Naomi beamed at him. Chakotay tried to smile back, now more to reassure himself than them; the Captain's mood had been a little odd. _Oh well. I guess I'll find out tomorrow…_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Janeway sat at her monitor, its light the only source of illumination, casting her slight figure in a grim tableau against the rushing stars that formed an indifferent background. Even as she mechanically reviewed various tasks that required her consideration, her thoughts turned inward. Much of her contemplations of late had been dismal; as her condition worsened, hungrily consuming her body, she became more aware that she was no closer to attaining her goal- to return to the Alpha Quadrant- than she had been upon first falling ill. Janeway grimaced as she made the mistake of calling attention to the omnipresent pain, causing her fingers to cease their efficient movement on the panel before her as it flared beyond her ability to disregard.

At first, she had reacted by drawing her knees up and trying to make herself into a small ball, to quench the struggle that waged continually between her decimated immune system and the attacking virus. Of course, that had no effect, not that she had ever expected it to, but it had been instinctual for her to respond that way in the past. Now she simply froze in place, barely twitching a muscle as she breathed sparingly, accepting only the minimum intake of oxygen necessary for her body to continue functioning. These days, when nothing could help her, when even the serum that had initially kept it under her control was failing to counteract the effects as it once had, even the smallest movement triggered a larger flare-up of agony throughout her body. It paid to keep very, very still.

Nausea rolled over her in waves. Janeway ruthlessly quashed the urge.

Long moments passed, and still her body fought her will, testing her resolve, seeking to humiliate her. These moments sickened her, where she could no longer compartmentalize her illness and thus control it, when she was undeniably affected by it, made helpless… She had been betrayed by her own internal system- subsumed by the alien virus and then brought to bear against her- and it showed no signs of abating.

"Janeway to Sickbay," she forced out, hating having to seek the hologram's help.

"Sickbay here," the Doctor's voice responded immediately, suggesting he had not been

deactivated when she called. "What can I do for you?"

She did not answer.

"Captain?" sharp alarm sounded in the hologram's voice. "Captain, respond!"

Not waiting for even a few seconds- the fact that the Captain had called Sickbay suggested the matter was out of control- he ordered an emergency transport. When Janeway's body appeared, stretched out on a bio-bed, she did not move to reprimand him as he had half hoped she would, hoping he had overreacted. But the Captain was barely even breathing.

It gave the Doctor pause. "Oh, no," he muttered under his breath. "No, Captain, you are not about to die on me, I refuse to allow you to die in my Sickbay." Briskly, he set to work,

not allowing himself to speculate on the likelihood of her survival.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Doctor?" Commander Chakotay barrelled through the door. "What's going on?" He stopped short at the sight of his Captain on the bio-bed. "What happened to her?"

"I believe you should wait until the other members of the senior staff arrive, so that I will not have to repeat myself," the Doctor said, his voice lacking the usual acerbic tone.

That made Chakotay nervous. The Doctor could always be relied on for his acidic remarks, the general air that he was superior to any and all others aboard Voyager and that that fact should be acknowledged by all. The reality that they did not disappointed him, making conversation with him consistently hazardous, though many found it fun to aggravate the hologram, Tom Paris being the main antagonist.

Speaking of the devil, the blond chief helmsman walked through the doors with B'Elanna

Torres, both irritated by the late night call.

"Doc, is this necessary?" Paris asked, yawning.

Torres glared, "Because if it isn't, I swear that this time, I really will disassemble your

matrix, piece by-" the couple froze in shock as they became aware of the Captain's state, and the disheartened look on the Doctor's face.

"What happened to her?" Paris unconsciously repeated Chakotay's words.

"I've been informed we should wait til the others arrive," the Commander said tonelessly.

"So that he doesn't have to repeat himself."

The younger man nodded slowly. "Fair enough, though I would've thought you the last person to give up this opportunity to lecture to a captive audience a couple times over."

"I'm not the one with the big mouth, Mr Paris."

Torres murmured aside, "That shut you up," but before further debate could occur, Tuvok

stiffly entered the room, followed by Neelix who had evidently picked up a point of

long-standing contention between them, judging by the Vulcan's tight expression. Kes

followed behind, trading an amused expression with Ensign Kim, and Seven entered after them, an eyebrow raised in bemused nonchalance.

Then the exuberant Talaxian, along with the remainder of the senior staff, noticed the situation. "Doctor?" he appealed to the uncharacteristically sombre hologram. "What happened? Is she going to be all right? It's not serious, is it?"

"Undoubtedly the Doctor would not have required our presence here at this time had it not

been serious, Mr Neelix," Seven said sharply, staring at the woman who had acted as a parent to her, easing the transition from Borg drone to human, with concern that rapidly turned to anger as her head snapped back to the Doctor. "Explain."

"As most of you would remember, although Seven, you weren't aboard at that time," the Doctor started with difficulty, "the Captain and Commander, while on an uninhabited M-class planet, succumbed to a virus transmitted via insect bite. The severity of the condition resulted in an enforced stay on the planet, which possessed an environment that somehow neutralized the effects of the disease."

"She's suffered a relapse?" Chakotay asked, eyes intent on the hologram.

"We contacted the Vidiians and they, having more advanced medical knowledge, provided a cure for the virus."

"You're cutting out all the good parts," Paris muttered, recalling the vicious battle they

had engaged in when the Vidiians decided to set a trap for them.

"It seemed successful in curing their condition, however, later, the Captain admitted to suffering from similar, though subdued, ailments. I thought that the differences between

Vidiian and human physiology had been accounted for, but apparently," he glanced over at

Janeway, "I was in error."

"When did you realize this miscalculation?" Tuvok enquired.

The hologram hesitated. "When the Captain reported similar, albeit diminished, symptoms…" he looked around at their faces, knowing they weren't going to be pleased with his answer, "which was approximately a fortnight after she and the Commander returned to Voyager."

Kim frowned, "But that was-"

"Two years ago," the Commander whispered. Anger and disbelief appeared on his face as he said more loudly, "You mean to tell me that she's been suffering from this thing for two years?"

"Two years? Yes. Suffering? Not exactly, not until more recently," the Doctor said. "The

treatment, courtesy of Danara Pel, strengthened her immune system against the effects of the virus, however, it did not eradicate all traces of it. The virus simply retreated into hiding, til it could regroup and launch a new attack. Viruses have a history of ferocity, adapting to new circumstances and overwhelming the patient's immune system by mutating faster than it can recognize the threat til it eventually- collapses."

All eyes involuntarily returned to Janeway.

"She's been taking the serum I synthesized, after exhaustive study of what I received from Danara, modifying it to better suit her physiology, but after such a prolonged exposure…" the Doctor heaved a sigh, "all I could do was treat the symptoms, not the cause."

"Why weren't we told about this?" Torres demanded. "All those times that she's pushed herself to the limit, and she had this virus to deal with as well! She shouldn't have been out there, putting herself on the line-"

"And that's why she didn't want anyone to know," Chakotay said under the Chief Engineer's tirade but they all heard him.

Torres bit her lip. "She didn't want us to worry." Fortunately she only allowed herself a mild oath, controlling the inclination to violent behaviour that tended to appear when emotionally perturbed, which she was indeed at the moment. Meditation with Tuvok seemed to be working wonders.

"Did she know from the start that the likely outcome was- this?" Chakotay asked.

The Doctor nodded. "It was unlikely that she could recover from such a virulent strain of disease. She knew the probable end result."

"But Doctor, I was in Sickbay, and then Tom more recently," Kes said in her gentle voice,

"why didn't you allow us to help you? We're not trained in the finer points of this illness

she's suffering from, but we may have been able to see something that could help, relieve some of the pressure you were under."

"She didn't want anyone to know," he said adamantly. "Since she was prepared for it, the

Captain felt she would prefer to remain in full command of her ship til the very end, rather than alarm the crew and be forced to pass the mantle…"

"Clearly, her judgement was affected," Tuvok said.

"What would you have me do?" the Doctor asked, annoyed. "Doctor-patient confidentiality. It's not something I just ignore when it suits me, not to mention the fact that my program's ethical sub-routine wouldn't allow it anyhow."

"This is really very interesting, but uh- what are her chances?" Neelix asked, his slight wince as he posed the question signifying he did not expect a positive answer. And in the increasingly tense atmosphere, the silence that ensued spoke volumes.

"Ah, all right then," the Talaxian subsided, troubled.

"She contacted me about an hour ago, but could barely even speak and when I received no further word from her, I was alarmed to the extent that I ordered a transport," the Doctor filled them in on recent events. "When she got here, there was nothing I could do. The Captain lapsed into a coma, and although her autonomic nervous system is still functioning, there's minimal brain activity and her cortical functions- well, you don't need to me to dress it up. After this entire discussion, you should know that things aren't looking very good. It's just a matter of when, now."

"If you don't mind, I'm going to try and be positive," Kes said resolutely. "Captain Janeway didn't give up on me when I was comatose after that incident with the shrine on the Nechani homeworld. Perhaps I can't do as much now as she did for me then, but I can still have faith."

"Faith is irrelevant," Seven's voice shook and her repressed emotions, the anger at what had happened to the Captain, rebounded in a verbal attack on Kes. "It will not restore her to us. And no matter how positive your attitude, it will not cure her."

"What do you suggest, Seven?" Kes asked her.

Seven remained silent for quite a few moments, striving to keep control of herself. Unfortunately, losing that control was a human weakness she was susceptible to.

"Her death is unacceptable." With that, Seven strode out.

The others looked helplessly at each other, and Kim murmured apologies at the abrupt departure and went after her. The others also gradually, reluctantly, dispersed. The Doctor

deactivated himself, muttering about how Janeway always seemed to be the cause of extended activation.

Soon Chakotay was the only one in the room with her. He slowly walked to her side, looking down at her pale face. "You could have told me," he said softly. "You should have. I said I would do whatever I could to make your burdens lighter. That your needs would come first. I didn't realize that you thought more for the crew's peace of mind and wellbeing than your own, not to this- unimaginable- degree."

She didn't respond, and Chakotay sat, watching her mechanically breathe in and out, utterly still other than that movement. "Was that why you decided to distance yourself? Tuvok was right; your judgement must have been affected. We would have rather known, than let you suffer alone." Thoughts of her in pain in the quarters right next to his filled him with anguish. "Why, Kathryn?" her name felt odd on his tongue, after couple years disuse. It filled him with long locked away memories of New Earth, times then that he treasured, andwhich were years later tinged with bittersweet emotion. "Why you and not me?"

He took her hand in his gently, and bowed his head over her, wracked with guilt.

-End Prologue-


	2. Chapter 2

Pt 1 Sleep of Death

Kathryn Janeway moved slowly down a corridor, one of Voyager's, not that the location was of any great significance. She was not going anywhere in particular. There were a great many more doorways than there seemed to be on Voyager, but she ignored them all, not certain of what she was searching for, if anything. Then she paused outside the holodeck. There was something inside that beckoned to her, and so she walked through the doors to her favourite haunt-

…the most content and peaceful you have ever been…

-a beach, one that she had visited only a few times in her life. Once, a perfect memory, with her family in her childhood; again, to relax by herself after the hectic final year at

the Academy and then finally, in the lull between assignments, after she had learned she had earned the captaincy of Voyager and she retreated to this private place of hers, studying her beloved ship's schematics so that, as she later asserted to Admiral Patterson, she could find her way around with a blindfold.

Janeway found her favourite spot, where the dune at her back curved about so that she felt as though she were tucked away, hidden in a corner; in her little private piece of the universe. She experienced such a small part of that universe, her life barely a ripple across the surface of its fathomless depths, and even of what she saw, she was still distanced from it. Yet here…she studied her surroundings, the few small trees that survived to decorate the area with a splash of green, and gazed briefly across the sea to where the sun kissed its distant edge, vivid rays stretching out over the water as though reaching to her in entreaty. Here, though, and her lips curled- either in amusement or disgust at her fanciful thoughts- it was as though she ruled supreme over this delightful tiny kingdom, the master of all she surveyed.

Then her gaze was irresistibly drawn to the sea ahead of her. One could certainly never master that. Janeway had never been totally comfortable in the sea, a childhood apprehension that had survived into maturity albeit in a more diluted sense, but there was still a satisfaction in the simple observation of the sea and her many moods. One did not need to be immersed in the sea to be a part of the action. She settled in and began to daydream. That was another pleasant aspect of ocean-watching; it allowed her mind to wander freely, to explore different concepts, leap from one idea to the next as a wave broke against the beach, then another and another, hissing slightly as it ran up towards her impishly. A real smile, faltering slightly from disuse, tilted her lips. Janeway watched the water rise up in her direction, then subside. This spot was also ideal in that the water never came up high enough to drench her, although she had often ended up soaked to the skin anyhow. Her sister Nicole, then nine, had taken great pleasure in staging ambushes with a bucket she carried around like a teddy bear as her weapon of choice. Yet not even her little sister's antics had been enough to upset her tranquillity. Her eyes lingered on the ocean, becoming soft and unfocussed as she began to dream again.

There was a feeling of happy anticipation in the air, something that she had always felt here, time stretching out before her in a single infinite moment that allowed her to cast off all her worries and fears. Instead she indulged in optimistic dreams of the golden paths her life could take, with the genuine feeling that they could all come true …

Later, much later, Janeway dazedly felt, even though the sun didn't seem to have moved from its position in the sky, something stirred her. Another presence.

"It's a lovely place, Captain," came a familiar warm voice. "I can see why you like it here.

It's very peaceful, isn't it?"

Janeway continued to gaze out at the sea, unsettled by the intrusion. She wanted to be left alone here, as she always had been eventually.

"There's no one else to worry about, only you to concern yourself with," the pleasant voice continued. Janeway wished the person would keep quiet. "That is an attractive option, I suppose, for someone who has the responsibilities that you do."

_There are- burdens, I suppose, yes, but they are so far away now…_

"But Captain, this isn't going to last forever. You must make a choice. And you must think of what you are leaving behind if you choose to move on. Please, I know you're tired, and there's a lot you have on your mind to deal with- but there are many people here who need you."

A trickle of resentment ran through her mind, melting the customary reserve that cloaked her awareness. Must she always be thinking of others? it asked. What others, they weren't with her now, were they? But that was fine with her, Janeway thought. It wasn't as though she needed them. Even if-

"It does seem unfair."

The person had an uncanny perception of her feelings, but she refused to consider the words being uttered, drawn out from a place within her that she had always shielded her conscious mind from, knowing it would only obscure what was, in the end, only inevitable.

"Still, it never had to be all duty, Captain- Kathryn. That was your choice. You never wanted to take what we were willing to give."

Janeway stared out to sea mutely. She didn't know what she could say. There were just too many things to deal with at the moment, too much to think of-

"We will be here for you, just as we always were… I have to go, but Kathryn, I'll be here when you need me."

Who was this person who spoke with such understanding and compassion? Janeway turned her head, looked into eyes that were kind and sympathetic, in a youthful and innocent face.

Definitely familiar.

"Kes…"

A sparkle of mischief appeared, melting years off her face so that Janeway seemed to see an unfamiliar child grinning at her with sociable interest. The child/Kes leant over and kissed her on the cheek.

"You are not alone."

Then the veil dropped. Her features were strangely altered, possessed of a fluidic property for a moment. Her eyes held a hard expression, one that was still a little curious, and almost calculating in a way.

It definitely was not Kes anymore; Kes- if she ever had been there- was gone now. The words echoed, repeating, resounded in her brain.

_You are not alone…_

Her eyes darted to the calm waters, seeking the serenity that had been shattered by whoever had visited her.

_And in that way, the warrior began to know the true meaning of peace._

But her own personal peace eluded her, and she suspected it had never been there in the first place. An illusion, a construct of her mind to better understand, or rather, cope with the mysteries of reality, a reality that may not be what it seemed. Futile impositions of her rules, her laws, on a universe that did not strictly adhere to what she understood. Now again, she was at the mercy of something beyond her control. She remembered the alien that had invaded her cerebral cortex, impersonating her father to make her to believe she was dead, in order to nourish it in its Matrix. Then reality had become illusion, a nightmare

from which she could not awaken; she had been helpless, never knowing what fear she would face next. Fear…the clown named Fear, again something that had made hostages of living beings, using their minds to nourish it, prolong its existence, subjecting them to atrocities similar to her experience.

Her eyes glazed over with tears as she stared blindly out at the sea, anguish filling her mind, terror taking hold on her with such strength she could not fight it off. She pressed herself against the rock face as the volume of noise painfully increased, the sea turned turbulent, darkness eclipsed the sun's light and waves roared and crashed with such brute force that she could feel the spray from her position, something that had never happened here before. The waves lapped up the space between them and her, coming closer with each successive pulse, but her emotions were in such a raw state that she was left paralysed, powerless to do anything but sit and wait for the inevitable; death, water above her, in her nose and mouth, unable to breathe… the imagery hit her with such force it seemed to be real.

Janeway's chest burned, lungs bereft of air, ice forming around her heart and she reached out with desperate hands, trying against all hope to somehow find a way out, wake from the nightmare to find herself safe in bed, choking as she searched blindly for anything in the nothingness that caged her-

-something connected.

A hand held hers. Warm, alive…someone was with her again; she was not facing death alone. A callused thumb chafed her skin, spreading warmth as it gently caressed. Slowly, the unholy terror that had clamped around her lungs like a vice eased, and her breathing resumed, life coursing through her again. Her eyes opened. Janeway looked about her, but there was no one in sight. She held her hand up to her cheek; warmth remained, comforting against her chilled skin. Puzzled, this reminded her that what surrounded her was illusion, held together with the thinnest veneer of reality that imprisoned her there.

The sun shone brightly, skies lightening, sea calming. The waves were quiet, peaceful now, gently slapping against the sand a few metres away from her and then retreating into the sea. Non-threatening.

Janeway drew in a deep breath and wondered what was happening to her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In Sickbay, Chakotay drew in a deep breath and thanked the Spirits that had answered his prayer, sparing Janeway's life. He gripped her hand even more tightly in his as he threw a questioning glance at the Doctor, who was examining her current condition.

"She'll live- for now," was the less than reassuring reply. Resignation played over the hologram's face, making him seem all the more human for that moment. "Continue talking to her. It always helps to let the patient know they are missed, that there's someone waiting for them to wake up; even appeal to them to do so," the Doctor said. "Even if that doesn't seem likely to assist in her doubtful recovery- at least she won't be alone." Chakotay's expression showed that those words had struck home. He nodded.

"Kes wanted me to convey her apology for leaving her turn with the Captain before it was up," the Doctor went on mildly, "but you know how it is…"

"Yes, well, in her condition, I wonder she's still up and about," Chakotay shook his head.

"But I suppose that's going around," his eyes rested on Janeway.

"Kes won't do anything that will harm her or the baby," the Doctor said with a little bite to his voice. "Besides, with Mr Neelix hovering over her the way he is-"

"As well as the way you are," Chakotay muttered.

"She won't have a chance to overexert herself. And by the way, as godfather-to-be," the hologram announced with pride, "you can never hover too much."

"Should I be congratulating you instead?" the Commander said wryly.

"Well, I think this happy occasion concerns us all. After all, Kes' child will be the second born aboard Voyager, an event I had expected long before now, however, it has finally arrived. It's just a shame that-" the Doctor stopped abruptly in the middle of his rambling, but they both knew what he had been about to say:

_It's just a shame that the Captain may never see the child…_

Chakotay sighed. "All roads lead to you," he murmured to the unconscious woman.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She looked around, casting her gaze for whoever had visited her just before, wondering who had given her that momentary connection when she had needed it most, at the point where she had been beyond all reason and sanity, where the most primal emotion- fear- had ruled her. Janeway wrenched her gaze away to contemplate the sand with an intensity that spoke eloquently of her confusion and shame at having lost control to that extent.

"Hello, Goldenbird."

It was once more difficult to breathe. She had not heard that voice since an alien had impersonated him in order to more easily maneuver her to her doom. For a moment, her previous emotional state- the panic-stricken depths of her consciousness that she had discovered only a few minutes before- started to resurface, intent on consuming her with its illogical frenzy once again. Then a humourless smile touched her lips; such a ploy only worked once. It was not going to knock her off balance again. She took her time, feigning disinterest before she rose and turned to confront the figure of her father. Janeway knew it was another trick, and forewarned was forearmed.

"It depends on how you look at the situation," her father spoke, as though in answer to her thoughts. "Through the eyes of someone who wants to believe…or as a person trying to expose a trickster. Which are you, Goldenbird?"

"And you are…?" Janeway asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That depends on who is asking. You cannot learn the answer until you decide."

"Decide…?" she shook her head with icy disdain. "My father was never into this mystical line you're giving me. It was not in his personality. So it stands to reason that you're not my father. And if you're not my father, then why are you masquerading as him and what do you hope to achieve?"

He looked at her calmly. "Remember when you were young and you lost the tennis tournament?" he asked. "On an impulse, you decided to walk all the way home to punish yourself for it, in the middle of a _storm_. And when we found you, I was so angry that you had acted so rashly and that you had endangered yourself…then you told me you had figured out- what was it…Pythagoras' theorem?" the man shook his head in amusement. "You always were so stubborn and independent. Traits, your mother said, that you had inherited from me. "But none-"

"Of your charm," Janeway finished despite herself. "That is not confirmation," she told him.

"Many species possess telepathic abilities that allow them to absorb information from a person's mind."

As though she had not even spoken, he went on with his reminiscences. "Your head was forever in a book. More interested in reading about relativistic kinematics and particle-wave duality than socializing with the other children."

"Nic and later Phoebe got all the outgoing genes," she said neutrally.

"Our darling antisocial elder daughter."

That comment reminded her of her father, but Janeway had little difficulty in pushing away the pang of familiarity. Wanting to believe only left her vulnerable to attack. "So much for the alleged charm."

"No, I was a little rougher on you, wasn't I?" he said gravely. "Always pushing you, because I saw so much potential, so much of myself in you. You must have hated me sometimes for expecting so much of you-"

"I don't discuss personal topics with strangers."

The man who had the form of her father continued relentlessly, "-I always pushed myself as well, and with all my ambition, the desire to succeed, my family was left behind in favour of my career. You'll never know how much I wish I could change that; I'd give up the commendations, the medals, the promotions, all the years with Starfleet instead of at home with my family…"

He was saying everything she had always wanted to hear from her father…yet for that very reason, he could not be real. Her lips pressed into a tight line, and her knuckles whitened from clenched fists. This was ludicrous. Janeway refused to further humiliate herself by pleading with a fraud who could not possibly hold any personal connection to her.

"What if you're wrong?"

She looked at him wordlessly.

"What if your arrogance and pride is blinding you to the obvious?" he questioned.

A suitable retort eluded her.

"What does life have left to offer you?"

Involuntarily, she thought of Voyager. The cold part of her forced out the memories of pain,

loss, of the constant struggle every day to survive…whispered that though she had not yet

finished her task, it was time for her to pass it on to-

Chakotay… an image of his hand holding hers, eyes that were lost in thought fixed on her face. Another conflict waged inside of her now, illuminating with harsh clarity the memories of times in the past that had been suppressed with wilful denial on her part. Having suffered from this self-induced blindness for so long, the painful exposure of her now transparent motives and intent forced Janeway to see again. The realization of her weakness and fear- rather than the strength and independence that she had attempted to explain it as- shook her, the long withheld eruption of emotion tearing down her defenses in that moment of self-comprehension, of pure understanding, untainted by censorship or selective editing.

_I can tell you a story…about an angry warrior who lived his life in conflict…a man who_

_couldn't find peace…the woman warrior was brave and beautiful and very wise…he would_ _stay by her side…her needs would come first…in that way, the warrior began to know the true meaning of peace…_it all blurred, images running together and her eyes burned- building her a tub on New Earth, and handing her a peace rose in her ready room…trading quips on the bridge, and dinners together…_ "You could have told me…I didn't realize that you thought more for the crew's peace of mind and wellbeing than your own…Was that why you decided to distance yourself? We would have rather known, than let you suffer alone…Why you and not me?"_

She twisted her head away to block out the images, tried to regain control.

"You have to make a choice…"

"A choice? Between what? What are my alternatives?" the questions came out with a little more heat than she had intended.

"So full of questions," the mild taunt came as the apparition smirked. "And here I thought you had mastered yourself. Shows exactly what a failure you are in every respect."

Her voice was calm as she replied, "I was right about you."

"What a victory for the great Captain Janeway- or perhaps just ordinary Kathryn Elizabeth

Janeway, considering how unworthy of the title you are. You are flawed, possessing qualities a captain should not, allowing your personal feelings and attitudes to interfere with the execution of your duties, degrading your command performance. And while you flaunt your position, you nevertheless lack qualities a captain requires, such as authority, decisiveness; you were responsible for the death of your father and your fiancée because you couldn't decide-"

"I stopped blaming myself for that years ago-"

"But aren't you to blame? And what of the many deaths among your crew? You cannot say you were not responsible for those. After all, you were the one responsible for their being in the Delta Quadrant in the first place. They were following your orders, under your command when they died, and you should have found some way, as Captain, to prevent their deaths-"

Janeway, unable to respond to this startling flood of wrath, was further unprepared for the sudden metamorphosis into Seven of Nine that followed. Shaken, she stared in mute surprise at the ex-drone.

"Captain," Seven started and then stopped. "It is difficult to see you in this condition. I had- thought you invulnerable, much as the Borg Queen, invincible. Certainly not susceptible to a disease that now has you in this state.

"I had not been eager to fulfil my duty to watch over you when I was alerted my shift was

to start. Nor do I believe any of the members of the senior staff who have yet to fulfil this function find it an- appealing task. They appear apprehensive, as I am now," she admitted with a sigh in frustration. "In the Borg I was not required to perform such tasks as this. Always there was some logical purpose, some clear objective I was to achieve. Yet in this case…I am helpless to do anything except observe you." She stopped and turned to address someone unseen. "Doctor, this is not constructive. I am not accomplishing anything by conversing with a comatose figure."

There was a pause while the Doctor presumably answered her. She appeared unconvinced and turned with a dubious look on her face, fading in the motion, much as Janeway's father had before her. The Captain started at the sudden vanishing act.

"Seven?" she called, wondering at the young woman's words. Janeway looked around, knowing the action to be futile, and true enough, no one was to be seen. She wondered whether the apparitions had ever been present. Seven…what had the ex-drone been talking about when she referred to a 'shift' that seemed to somehow involve Janeway herself? And then she had spoken of a comatose figure…it simply made no sense.

That encounter had stung her more than she cared to admit, with the parting shots from her 'father'. His words came back to her, causing an involuntary flinch, and then irritation at that reaction. Plainly, it was useless attempting to gain back her composure, which was in tatters by this late stage. Instead, Janeway gathered together the remnants of her emotional response and channelled it into anger, using it to put the entire incident from her mind.

She let out a breath, unclenched the fists that dug into her palms and determinedly, unreservedly, devoted her attention to forming some sort of plan. What irked her about this entire experience was the singular lack of strategy she had developed to deal with it.

Inherent to her position were a primary objective, and the contingency plans and resources to supplement it. Janeway focused on accomplishing the task at hand with an eye looking out for the bigger picture while others took care of the rudimentary concerns, and with this status quo, she had grown used to wielding her crew and ship as just another limb, taking her privilege for granted. It was not often that the Captain found herself separated from Voyager and this was something that she had never faced before. She worked through her vessel in hostile situations, but now she was stripped of that power, pitted against this insidious menace without hope of support from the crew, with the only backup her wits.

And as though to accentuate this grim realization, an invisible force suddenly seized Janeway, displacing her through space and time in a single fluid moment.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Doctor sighed as Seven adopted her impassive expression, the one that was reminiscent of the Borg and which informed him that resistance was futile. If she were a child, he would have said she was whining. If an adolescent, it would have been termed a 'phase'. Either could have been dealt with appropriately. However, as an adult and a member of the Senior Staff, the Doctor was limited in how he could address Seven's recalcitrance. Not for the first time, he envied the Janeway's ability to handle the ex-drone. The only thing Seven understood was authority, and the Captain was its personification. Seven may voice her disagreement, but Janeway somehow managed to achieve her goal in the end through some calculating manner of approach.

"Seven-" he began, but salvation in the form of Kes appeared.

The Ocampa assessed the situation with a single glance and then smiled gently at Seven.

"It's all right to be afraid sometimes," Kes said, with the seemingly transparent intent of comforting the awkward human woman. "I know this must be a new experience for you, and quite an unpleasant one," she shrugged and added innocently, "particularly as you are in the process of regaining your humanity, and it does leave you vulnerable right now."

Seven's eyes narrowed. "I am adequate to this task."

Kes nodded at the challenge but did not pick it up, agreeing mildly, "Of course you are," in a tone that implied otherwise. "But it is all right, really. It would be no hardship for me to take your turn for you, if you want, and I would be glad to help."

"As you say, it is no hardship," Seven said distantly, and turned back to the Captain.

"Thank you," the Doctor expressed his gratitude in low tones. "I certainly didn't expect this reaction, although in hindsight that was foolish." He sighed. "I'd retract my request for the senior staff to spend some time with the Captain, but…"

"It would make you look foolish?"

"Certainly not, Kes. I assure you, I am not that frivolous"

"Doctor, I only thought that might be your fear for how the others may perceive you. Certainly, I wouldn't believe such a thing…"

The hologram nodded, mollified. "Anyhow, by now I cannot make exceptions, for her in particular, or else…"

Kes nodded in understanding as the hologram trailed off. "I think B'Elanna might have a few words to say about that."

"Exactly. And that would begin a dispute that really is unwarranted, stemming from such a simple request."

"Well…I think it may be part of a disliking for situations that remind people of their mortality. Or that such strong figures in their life can be subject to the same frailties that the rest of us mortals face."

"Insecurity," the Doctor pronounced smugly. "Given my superior capabilities, I am thankful to never have suffered from such a difficulty."

Kes, who knew better, smothered a smile as she allowed him to begin a check-up of her baby's health. Her gaze fell across the room to its other two occupants, her eyes becoming troubled as they rested on Janeway's face; Kes wondered what lay beneath the detached mask that concealed the Captain's true self.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She now stood in the midst of a lush and unspoilt paradise by all appearances.

_-there was something about appearances that couldn't be trusted-_

A melodic voice called out to Janeway, interrupting that train of thought. "Oh, Captain, it's wonderful here!" Kes' voice distracted her as the Ocampa emerged from a nearby path, eyes shining with pleasure at the lovely surroundings, hands filled with flowers.

Janeway forced a smile to deal with the Ocampa. Kes' joy and innocent pleasure in

everything, the wonderful optimism and hope she exuded made her someone Janeway did not wish to hurt. A frown puckered the facsimile of a smile she sported as something about this situation again set her internal red alert off. Before she could pursue it, though, Kes picked out one flower from her bouquet and held up a deep purple bloom. "Here, Captain. Isn't it lovely?"

Janeway noticed the flower bore a slight resemblance to the Terran lily as she accepted it, analytically studying its features. She touched the glossy and lustrous petals, and then saw a puzzling gleam at the centre of the bloom.

Time seemed to slow down at that moment. In slow motion, pollen wafted around her body and the flower gleamed. In the blink of an eye, she had vanished. Kes, far from looking alarmed at her Captain's disappearance, looked serene before she too, with a graceful motion, disappeared from the site, leaving the lovely surroundings as abandoned and surreal as they had always been.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So, Captain," Torres said uneasily, settling herself by the bed. "How are you feeling?" she

asked, shaking her head in disgust at the inanity of her words. But then, what could she say to her comatose Captain? Talking to a woman who couldn't possibly hear made her feel ridiculous…except that the Doctor and Kes had assured her that, in some small way, this would help. So here she was, roped into her turn watching over the Captain. It was making her tense, feeling it was more of a deathbed vigil, just waiting for the moment of death to strike and she couldn't bear to be there when it happened.

"Don't you dare die on my watch," she warned Janeway. "There's no way you're going to make me have to tell people the bad news, all right? So just hold on."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_-just hold on-_

An indeterminate amount of time later, Janeway stretched weary muscles, opening her eyes…and froze as she inexplicably found herself on a slope at the edge of a cliff. Her eyes widened fractionally and, repressing the instinctive urge to scream, she carefully scrambled back with more than a little fervour. She let out a breath as she scrambled over the rise and backed away.

There was serious damage done to her equanimity, but for the moment, more serious considerations occupied her. Such as, where was she? And what exactly did the malicious force responsible for all this have in mind for her now? Her last memory was of an encounter with Kes- she realized that had been the pervading wrongness that had kept her on edge, the niggling conviction that the person who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere could not have been the real Kes. If that case was taken together with the events preceding it, of her 'father' and that odd image of Seven, it would seem to confirm that no one was who they seemed and that she should be distrustful of anyone she met in this place- wherever it was.

Janeway looked around at her surroundings. The scene that met her eyes was disheartening; flat semi-arid terrain, limited cover, and almost non-existent plant life. Janeway, after experiencing a small shudder of discouragement, began randomly making her way to- somewhere. It was difficult going. She stumbled constantly on the uneven ground, sometimes falling and scraping her skin. She lost all track of time as the sun blazed hotter overhead and in grudging concession to the heat, she took off her jacket, wrapping it around her waist and rolling up her sleeves of the grey turtleneck.

Ages later, she felt in danger of heatstroke. The sweat that trickled down her face stung,

and her heart burned fiercely in her chest, threatening to explode with each step she took.

Then she stumbled off balance yet again and fell, nearly twisting her ankle. She lay there, struggling to regain her breath, and the texture of the ground seemed to change. Everything went darker and the air itself seemed to change as well. She lifted her head up and shut her eyes again in despair that could not be contained.

Now she was in a swampy forest. It wasn't holes and uneven terrain she had to contend with. Now it was insects and vines and mud, she thought, coldly irritated. Especially the latter. She was covered in mud as she walked, picking her way indiscriminately. The air was heavy, making her feel suffocated and unable to breathe easily. The humid atmosphere felt…charged, expectant and suspenseful. Her eyes glazed as she became more and more in tune with her surroundings. The squawks of the birds, distant roars of large animals and chattering of different creatures drummed along with her heartbeat. The rhythm of jungle life kept her going even as she tired seemingly beyond endurance. Several times she wondered why she continued on a path that was unlikely to yield any results to her advantage; what was so imperative that she forced herself on? She heard loud screeches and a troop of monkeys passed overhead. Janeway stopped now and watched their progress along the jungle rooftop bemusedly.

But there was nothing of the jungle now and a blast of pain hit her. She doubled over and saw whiteness. Snow, her mind struggled to keep up with the transformation of her environment. Janeway shivered. Her body was starting to acclimatize to the shock the transition had dealt her and that pain receded. But she was so cold…the embers of her determination flared for the last time and then died out, leaving her without any desire to go on further. She just wanted to lay her head down and give in. The odds had always been against her… Janeway fell to the ground, felt the icy coldness under her cheek. The urge to die flooded her mind as never before. She welcomed it, and it filled the craving inside her, the emptiness that was reflected in this bleak landscape. It was fitting that this was the last scene she would see, that this would be her dying place.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Well, Captain, looks like you've really done it this time, huh?" Paris said humourlessly.

"I mean, god, what the hell were you thinking?" He shook his head. "And it's not just the insult to me personally, and the crew in general, that you felt you had to be this figurehead of authority and competence all the time, but how did you think we'd feel after we found out-" his diatribe dried up all of a sudden. "I'm such a pig, as B'E would say."

He sat down suddenly. "It wasn't that you were mistaken really, but you saw it clearer than anyone, wasn't it? We've depended on you for so long that this could have- I don't know, broken the spirit of Voyager. And you wanted to preserve it as long as possible. You've done so much for us, and here I am," he waved a hand critically, "going on to you about how my feelings have been so hurt by your not confiding in anyone about your condition. I'm just a-" A thought struck him and he quickly checked around him to see where the Doctor was.

"Safe in his office," he whispered conspiratorially to Janeway. "So he didn't hear me admit a thing," Paris' smile flashed for a moment, but then it dulled.

"I don't know, Captain, this just seems wrong to me. You've left too much unresolved, you know. What about Chakotay, huh? Can't just leave him like that. It'd kill him, and then who'll be- oh, god, no. Tuvok would be captain. Now you've gotta recover. Top priority, understand, Captain?"

He grinned again. "And you can haul my ass down to crewman if you want for ordering you around. But that'll mean coming back. You have to come back…"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hello, Captain," Neelix sat himself by Janeway's side. "Well," he exclaimed a little too brightly and then winced. "Well," he repeated. "We've all been missing you, and uh, Naomi asked me to give this to you," he fumbled with a few pictures that the girl had drawn.

"She's got quite an eye for art, I'll say," the Talaxian examined the drawing with interest.

"This really looks like you…it's a 'get well' drawing; I'll just leave them here for you, so when you"- he cleared his throat anxiously- "recover, you can see them. Right here, just beside you."

Neelix looked around Sickbay with a little wrinkle between his eyes. "You know, it's so bland in here. It really needs a little more colour, I think. But then last time I tried to help out- after all, patients need a bit of cheer to make them feel better, it can't be pleasant to recover somewhere that's so…functional, so efficient, not that our Seven would have anything against that," he chuckled, "Now what was I-? Oh yes, but after the Doctor was so disagreeable last time, I think I'd better let alone…anyhow," he brightened up, "I can plan a party for you, when you get better. I'll see if I can coerce Mr Vulcan into cooking one of his famous deserts again! Ah, the crew loved his mouth-watering cakes…those pastries…delicious! And," he leaned closer to the Captain, "I've been experimenting in secret, something I think you'll definitely approve of, the Endarran trader we met a few weeks ago? Such a nice fellow, if slightly naïve, but I gave him a good price and anyway, there was something oddly familiar amidst the foodstuffs he offered- I've been mixing and testing and oh, yes, I think I've finally developed that perfect brew! I haven't tasted the final, precious batch; you can be the first, but I'm positive this will give you the cup of coffee you've been looking for!"

He slid a glance back to see what the Doctor was doing, and saw the hologram was now feeding an odd amphibious creature that occupied a rectangular contraption, filled with water and gravel and little undulating plants.

"I'll be sure to smuggle it in so he doesn't give one of his lectures," he assured Janeway.

"So just rest and I'll be back again soon."

Neelix then wandered off casually, to go see what the curious creature that the Doctor was so absorbed with could be.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next day, Kim hurried into Sickbay, a little rushed from "Hi, Doctor, Seven," Kim greeted the two in Sickbay. "Is she any better?" there was hope in the ensign's eyes that a few years in the Delta Quadrant had not been able to quash.

"I'm afraid not, Ensign," the hologram shook his head. "But then, on the plus side, she's no worse than before."

"Seven," Kim said, placing a gentle hand on the young woman's shoulder.

She refused to look at him, and her voice was suspiciously thick when she replied shortly,

"Ensign Kim?"

"You can stay longer with her," he offered. "I can come back later if you want."

For a moment, it seemed as though she would agree, but with a shudder, Seven stood. "That will not be necessary, Ensign."

She made as if to brush past him, but his hand on her shoulder tightened, lightly restraining her. "Seven, are you all right?"

"I am undamaged," she replied, but then with shock registered a tear trailing down her cheek. She reached up to blot it uncertainly, wavering. "But I am unfamiliar with the emotions I am experiencing."

"Probably what we all are," Kim carefully stroked her cheek to wipe away the wetness that discomfited her. "Concern and fear for the Captain, worry, sadness. Trepidation…the list goes on."

Seven sniffed. "I do not enjoy these emotions."

"Nobody does, Seven. But it's human to feel all of the above in situations like this," Kim said. "It'll pass."

"How does one handle death, Ensign Kim?"

He sighed, as he thought about her question. "I suppose…you don't really. I've been lucky; no one close to me has died, so I haven't had to deal with it. But it's still a very sensitive topic, and a painful one. But Seven," Kim looked at her seriously. "Regardless of how this turns out, you have to move on from it. I know you're still new to all of this, but it doesn't get any easier with experience, and sometimes you've just got to soldier on even if it kills you inside."

Seven looked at him silently.

"And remember, you still have all of us to help you through it. We all have to help each other through it."

"Thank you- Harry," she said. "I will consider what you have said. But I have also considered Kes' earlier words and there is something I have realized. Is there not another human response to occurrences such as this?"

"What is that, Seven?"

"Hope."

Kim broke into a grin. Seven was really making strides in her study and personal growth towards humanity. "You're absolutely right." He squeezed her shoulder before releasing her.

"See you later tonight? Holodeck Two?"

"For what purpose?" she looked at him quizzically.

"I want to show you the relevance of a late night stroll on the beach under the stars," he told her.

"That would be-"

"Ah, don't say it," Kim warned. "Remember, you're learning about human dating rituals and

I'm trying to teach them, so no matter how odd they may seem-"

"As a matter of fact, I was about to say that would be pleasant, Harry. I will see you later," a small smile lightened her attractive face, and Kim smiled back affectionately.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Well, Captain, I somehow never pictured this scenario," Kim started, feeling rather nervous. "I suppose the Delta Quadrant has a way of throwing you off balance, just when you think nothing weirder could happen."

Watching the Captain's face intently, there was no sign of any response, no sign that she had heard him at all. Kim chuckled at his own optimism. What chance was there that she would suddenly miraculously awake and reply, something like, "Mr Kim, weird is part of the job"? He thought that was very unlikely indeed.

"You know, do you know how much you mean to all of us? We hardly ever acknowledge it, all that you do for us"- the young man stopped to consider how to render into words what he thought- "leading us, giving us your strength and just…making the hard decisions, being our Captain. I still remember a few years back, when you told me how proud you were of me. Another one of those times when Voyager was in danger and irrelevant though I was in the greater scheme of things, you took the time to say something encouraging, that meant a lot coming from the Captain. I just-" He sighed, falling quiet for a few moments and he simply watched her, a little too bemused at the thought of the all too real possibility she may die…trying to comprehend how she could have been slowly dying over such an extended period.

"How could you not tell anyone?" Kim wondered. "Didn't it ever get to you? Being alone? Not being able to talk to anyone about something so-?" Again words failed him. But there was something simple that he understood, and said as much with a grave expression.

"You've got to get well, Captain."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Over the many years of our acquaintance, I have frequently been reminded of your impulsive, reckless nature," Tuvok said, his turn to keep the Captain company now. "Often, in closer quarters than I would have preferred. For instance, the caves you wished to examine early in our association, which resulted in an avian predator's pursuit of us, forcing us to take refuge in one of those very caves. You were reluctant to harm the creature, citing its right to protect its territory and its young, and adamant that you would find another way for us to escape- naturally, you succeeded."

Tuvok regarded his Captain, falling silent for a few minutes. Then he continued, "There are countless other examples, however, suffice it to say; serving with you was hardly conducive to ennui. One regrettable, though very human, fallacy you are subject to is guilt, the mistaken assumption of anxiety or unhappiness over situations you were unable to prevent and had little control over, yet continue to dwell on."

Janeway did not leap to her defence, or attempt to argue with him, as she would have had she been conscious. That fact oddly left Tuvok feeling off balance. It was as though the natural order of things had been turned on its head.

"There was the incident when you were commander of the U.S.S Billings, where an away team you sent to a volcanic moon encountered a magma eruption, leaving the shuttle damaged and three crew members severely injured. The next day, you went back to the moon, alone even under the dangerous circumstances, to complete the mission. It was an illogical action, prompted by an emotional response to an outcome you had not foreseen and experienced guilt for not preventing. To your mind, it was acceptable; you felt the need to atone for what had happened, I believe, show the crew members that their sacrifice was not in vain. Incomprehensible to a Vulcan."

He tilted his head reflectively. "However, I have realized that guilt, although a difficult and possibly dangerous emotion, may be instrumental in your recovery. You have shown that you will go to great lengths to ensure the safety of Voyager and her crew; you cannot abandon them- us, now. Captain, you still have responsibilities, crewmembers that depend on you, objectives you must achieve. I witnessed your promise to your counterpart aboard the duplicate Voyager, the time when we passed through a divergence field, that you would make sure your crew returned home. That promise has not yet been fulfilled." As the Commander entered, Tuvok concluded, "You must recover to lead us home."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A lone figure stood out in the isolated environment; a small human being, looking around at the alien environment with surprise. Her heart started beating faster reflexively, increasing the blood flow through her body, sending more oxygen to her brain. Her senses sharpened and she became more alert as the sound of her rapid breaths echoed loudly in the strange silence.

Uneasiness filled her, encouraging a rapidly escalating sense of dread at her vulnerability.

She had no idea how she had gotten there, and no memory of where Voyager might be. Janeway took refuge in observation, noting the scene around her. There was snow covering the ground, she saw, and though she distractedly thought it should feel cold, she could not feel the chill at all. Her attention was riveted on footsteps that marred the pristine icy ground; staggering and unsteady, giving her the impression of someone on their last burst of energy.

This seemed to be confirmed by the change in pattern to larger, less defined tracks that suggested someone had literally been dragging themselves along the ground.

But whoever this person was, they needed help, and as she was the only person around that she was aware of, it may depend on her- although what help she thought she could provide with no supplies, no equipment was uncertain… Janeway shrugged. That was as good a plan as any. Still puzzled at her lack of sensation, she followed the tracks, and it was not at all that far before she spotted a figure lying motionless on the ground. Janeway quickened her pace, almost running, and she saw steam rise in front of her from her breath. Curious, she thought again. "Hello?" she said out loud as she approached the stranger. There was something awfully familiar about their build and form, she thought, unease resurfacing.

"Excuse me? My name is Kathryn Janeway, and I'm here to help-" the litany froze in her throat as she saw the other woman's face: her own.

Suddenly, she was aware of the freezing coldness of her environment, and it tore the breath from her lungs. Still, she knelt next to the other Janeway and pulled out Starfleet jacket that was knotted around the woman's waist, focussing on the simple matter of survival for them both. Janeway struggled to and then gave up on tugging the immobile arms through the sleeves, simply wrapping it around her double's body, and rubbing her arms. This activity, rather difficult when being applied to someone else- even if it was herself- helped to distract Janeway, and to warm her a little. It also gave her an opportunity to study the

face that mirrored hers: more gaunt and fatigued, with lines creasing around the mouth that denoted some great strain. This double of hers seemed pale, faded- and gave her a start as the other Janeway's eyes suddenly opened.

"Hi," Janeway said inadequately, through shivering lips.

Those blue eyes that were identical to hers regarded her blankly.

"It's going to be alright," she was not sure what impact her words may be having, but decided to set a comforting tone to the whole affair. "Just stay with me…" She continued rubbing the woman's arms, but it became increasingly difficult as exhaustion fell over her. The cold, she thought numbly, knowing she had to resist, for both their sakes.

"Why are you doing this?" the other asked, her voice thin, brittle.

"Well…it would be disheartening to see you die, considering…" she trailed off, not knowing how to verbalize the implications of facing her own dead body.

Ice entered the woman's eyes. "Don't you know?"

"What?" Janeway asked warily.

"I already am- dead."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Looks like it's just you and me for the moment, Captain," the Doctor remarked to the room in general as he re-examined Janeway's EEG with discouragement. Commander Chakotay, who had just been and gone, had obviously been hoping as much as he had that their Captain might once again manage to pull off a miracle, as she had so many times before. Yet there was been little change in her condition. "This will be ever so thrilling. I'm sure we'll have ourselves a ball."

The awkward stillness that had settled over Sickbay was oppressive, and the Doctor scowled, unsure what to do about it. Under the circumstances, singing one of his favourite operas would be in bad taste, he decided. Yet what else was a hologram to do?

Lost for an answer, he returned to his office- it wasn't as though he could do much else for Janeway, other than the useless physicals he felt compelled to repeat again and again- and returned to his study of the holographic goldfish he had programmed.

It swam about its aquarium in content, whirling about quite energetically at times and then vigorously making for the opposite side of the tank again. The ideal companion, the Doctor reflected. Silent, an appreciative audience for his impromptu performances and simple to maintain. He was even considering programming another, for diversity. Perhaps a clownfish; he could name that one Tom Paris.

Amused at that line of thought, the Doctor added a little more sustenance of the holographic variety for his pet fish before sitting and allowing his thought processes to randomly move from topic to topic, subconsciously considering different aspects and views. It was unclear exactly what stimulus attracted his scattered attention, but it drew him out of his meditative state to a shocking lucidity and infused him first with incredulity, then, as he reassured himself that his visual sub-processors were not malfunctioning, gave way to unimaginable relief and elation.

-End Pt1-


	3. Chapter 3

Pt 2- Left Behind

_ Although I do not possess much knowledge of your race, I am certain this must have adversely affected you …I apologise. _

These were the first words Janeway had heard for quite some time as she resurfaced, awakening to the universe once more. Although she did not feel like re-entering the madness that surrounded her, there was a note of reserve, of sorrow in the mysterious woman's voice that called to something of a similar spirit in her, a reluctantly corresponding sympathy and understanding. With an effort, Janeway opened her eyes, and focussed on the abandoned surroundings. She seemed to be the only person around, but a hint of understanding touched her mind and a figure coalesced before her.

She raised an eyebrow. The smooth fair skin, pale gold hair and clear grey eyes that seemed to be concealing unfathomable emotion were too perfect, too idealized.

"You're not human, are you?" she asked rhetorically.

_No_, the other answered, lips unmoving. _I'm not_. 

The human woman inhaled deeply. "Why am I here?"

This time the stranger spoke audibly, "Your destiny is your own. As for your presence here, it is beyond my knowledge."

"Can you release me?" Janeway asked, more because she felt it was expected than out of an intense desire to flee the area. In a detached observation, she noted that the variety of flower that the illusion of Kes had offered her grew in profusion around her.

The woman recaptured her attention as she answered, "I don't keep you here."

"I recall you apologizing to me a moment earlier."

"A mere matter of formality, as I am in part responsible for the hallucinations you experienced. When I detected your mental emanations, I delved deeper to discover who you were. The side-effects were unfortunate, I believe. For more than that, however, you will be disappointed; I have no answers for you," the woman said, irony flitting across her perfectly formed face. "I do not know what keeps me here. I cannot say why you do."

"Fair enough," she murmured.

"You are the first being I have encountered here. Your mental capabilities are limited, your form restricted, corporeal- but it seemed diplomatic to offer an apology."

"You were curious about me, and for the purposes of closer scrutiny, the social niceties had to be observed," Janeway stated. It almost seemed amusing, given the vast majority of aliens that Voyager had encountered who were more intent on destruction than polite conversation.

"That is one interpretation."

"I see."

"You certainly are unusual…" the woman murmured, then said in an offhand tone of introduction, "I am Saonae."

"I'm Kathryn Janeway."

"Where do you come from, Kathryn Janeway?"

"Can't you read my thoughts?" she asked.

"I would prefer to hear it from your own lips."

"Part of the study, I suppose…I am from Earth, a planet in a different quadrant."

"So what do you here, all this way from your home?"

"Try to return. Or at least, I did. And you?" Janeway took the initiative in asking a question of her own, not liking the line of inquiry this _Sa-nai_ was taking. "Were you trapped here as well?"

"No," the other woman became more reserved. "I simply- cannot tolerate the idea of going elsewhere."

"You originated here?"

"A long time ago."

Janeway knew there was a story there. "And your people?"

"Gone. Eradicated. There used to be others, but I was responsible-" Saonae tensed as she struggled to contain the bitter words her tongue longed to set loose, to tell her story in hope of receiving redemption.

"You were responsible…?"

She looked away, lips tightening. "It was a long time ago."

Janeway said in a detached tone, "Evidently it hasn't been long enough, judging by how you still react to 'it'."

"I made a mistake, trusted those I shouldn't have, and for my foolishness and short-sightedness, my people paid the price. Can you understand that?" Saonae replied with anger.

Her bitterness was almost a tangible entity as she tried to repel the human woman, for reasons perhaps unknown even to her, in an effort to fuel the punishment she perceived was necessary to atone for her to endure in order to atone for past errors. It did not work that way however.

A correspondingly bitter smile quirked the corner of Janeway's lips as she replied, "Better than you could imagine. I don't know the exact circumstances of what befell you, but I understand how it feels to fail people you are responsible for, having that duty of care as a constant companion. And," she added, expressing these private thoughts to a stranger without hesitation or reluctance, only feeling a deep weariness that was almost fatalistic in nature, the impetus that sustained this monologue, "the need to isolate oneself in order to cope, to the extent of pushing others around you away, whether they are old acquaintances- or complete strangers, who are simply showing concern for someone who appears distressed."

Saonae looked at her sharply, the meaningful tone striking home the message.

"I do understand," Janeway repeated softly, at last, vehemently.

"Can you?"

Then suddenly, it overwhelmed her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She was the last of her line.

For the leader of the Ngatalh people, worry and frustration and fear for their way of life constantly dogged her. She was the last of the line that had kept her people alive for generations, and there was the very real possibility that she would be the one to fail years of trust and faith in her family.

The Ngatalh had lived down in the caves below the surface for centuries; and never, in all that time, realized that their home was not the place of their origin. When the lava flows had altered their previously predictable courses and had killed a few unfortunate families, blocking escape routes for more, the only route the survivors could take was up. To their surprise, inscriptions and diagrams figured prominently on the walls of caverns and narrow tunnels that they had never passed before this migration- yet they recognized the ancient symbols and the beliefs inscribed as their own.

She had found this discovery fascinating, wondering if the direction that they were headed could be the original homeland of her people. Yet why had they left? What had befallen her ancestors to prompt their exodus deep into the land?

And as she mulled over these questions with rapt fascination, she was abruptly recalled to her senses as the mental screams of the last person trapped by the lava sounded in her mind. Her eyes opened wide in that moment of death, then narrowed in piercing emotion.

Over forty had died because of her ineptitude, and she had been unable to do anything but shepherd the remaining to safety. Leaving those trapped, dying or already dead behind to do as best they could.

Years later, the echoes of the horrific screams still devastated her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

All the woman was aware of was a blinding headache. She wanted to slip back into unconsciousness, but her awareness insisted on surfacing. With a sigh, she opened her eyes to see a plain white ceiling that seemed familiar and, oddly, also unfamiliar at the same.

As she wondered over the paradox, a stray thought informed her, I'm in Sickbay…before she wondered, where is Sickbay? And who is that?

In her direct line of vision was a balding, stocky man, dressed in a uniform with a blue swath running along the top of his jacket, marking a science and in this context, medical, officer. There was a rather relieved set to his face that she noticed at once, feeling it was out of the ordinary, though she could swear she had never seen the man before in her life.

A latent impulse made her say, "Report," and as soon as the word was out, she noticed that it soothingly rolled off the tongue, as though she had said a thousand times before and would again. Authority and an expectation to be obeyed seemed an ingrained trait of hers- that thought puzzled her, as many things in this relatively short period did and the pounding in her head increased as she thought, Who-? The unknown medical officer interrupted her before she could follow that line of thought.

"Ah, welcome back to the plane of the living. How do you feel?"

"Headache," she admitted succinctly.

He sighed with exaggerated disappointment. "Charming as always. Here, this should take care of it," he pressed a hypospray to her neck.

Some of the pain receded but not all.

"Is there anything else, Captain?"

His expression was now overlaid with a sarcastic tinge. Why, though? Was he normally like that? She knew she should know the answer to that but as much as she racked her brain, she couldn't quite pin it down. She did know his after all. His name was…

"Captain?" He asked again, seeming more concerned this time.

This was beginning to annoy her. She didn't enjoy her brain not responding to her questions. She knew it had the information somewhere, but she couldn't access it and so she snapped, "Who are you, exactly? What's your name?"

The man seemed taken aback. "Last time I checked the computer I was a hologram"- yes, that seemed right, a hologram- "and I didn't have a name, other than 'Doctor' or 'hey, you'," the sarcasm was back.

"As you are a doctor and I am the Captain, it seems I am entitled a little more respect than

I am currently receiving," she informed him tartly. "And if this is how you address myself and others on a regular basis, which I cannot recall, then perhaps I should appeal to your compassion for a person who happens to have lost their memory."

"You've lost your memory?" He was definitely concerned now, scanning her.

"I believe I just said that, Doctor. Although, I do recall- what's the date, the year?"

"It's 2375, Captain. What year do you recall up to?"

"2375?" Janeway repeated, stunned. "I can't remember anything after 2371, when I was took command of Voyager to enter the Badlands…" she trailed off.

"You considerably exceeded that mission, seeing as how we happen to be in the Delta Quadrant at the moment," the Doctor said off-hand, ignoring her gasp of shock.

"Four years…has changed a lot of things, I see," she said ruefully.

"Hmm, this is more serious than I had expected. I will have to give you a more comprehensive examination."

The last two words sat poorly with her. "I feel fine, Doctor."

"Yes, well, as that is your standard line for all occasions, from when you're seriously injured as opposed to when you are near death, you will forgive me if I do not take your word for it. Now, it is a pity that you retain your unfortunate impatience with being in Sickbay for extended periods of time even after this memory loss occurred, but you must understand that an amnesiac captain cannot be allowed to wander freely about the ship"- sternly- "You will remain here while I examine you properly and attempt to isolate the cause and then find the cure. Without complaining, unless you wish to extend your stay."

She looked at the overbearing hologram through narrowed eyes. "Were you this dictatorial with me before my memory loss?"

"Naturally," was the prompt answer.

"And did I follow your orders to the letter?"

He answered resignedly, "Rarely. But this is quite serious, you do realise. The human brain is a delicate tool. It may be some time before I can isolate exactly where the problem is, let alone device a successful treatment to counteract the damage. If at all," he admitted, a little subdued.

She shrugged. "I know, Doctor. I have the utmost confidence in you. However, I have this feeling that a few years would not have altered my tendency to be, as some say, a difficult patient. Naturally, I would hate to disconcert you by acting overtly different and actually co-operating for once."

"Naturally. Why, thank you for your concern. Absolutely delighted that for once, someone cares about my tender emotions and-"

"Doctor…"

He recalled himself at that sharp stare. The authority Janeway had wielded before this

little accident was still in evidence. "Ah, yes, the senior staff, I'll contact them now…"

Janeway shook her head in amusement. The Doctor did have such a tendency to spout soliloquies, and one had to stop him before- mid thought, she arrested her. How had she known that? Perhaps her memory would soon return naturally, without interference- excuse me, assistance, of course- from the Doctor. She waited for her senior staff to arrive.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Captain. How are you feeling?"

A tall man with a distinctive marking on the corner of his face greeted Janeway, who leapt to her feet in shock as she realized he was the Maquis captain Starfleet had ordered her to apprehend- Captain Chakotay. She looked at the Doctor, but he did not appear to be startled.

Looking closer at Chakotay, she also noticed he was in a Starfleet uniform. Chakotay looked back at her questioningly, seeming puzzled at her behaviour.

Feeling a little out of her depth, mustering a weak grin- the best she could do, given the circumstances- she answered, "I've been better."

He seemed to hear something amiss in her tone because he looked at her with greater concern, but before he could ask, eight people had gathered in the room, presumably her entire senior staff. Janeway was surprised; it seemed an awful number of people and for such a small ship, because including the Doctor and herself, that numbered ten.

"What is it, Doctor?" a woman with faint ridges on her forehead asked. "Can't you handle medical matters anymore? I have work to get done."

Janeway recognized a Klingon-human hybrid when she saw one. From memory, she matched the face to as B'Elanna Torres, another of the Maquis. She tried harder, trying to recall why former Maquis were now Starfleet officers, what Torres' duties on Voyager were, what on earth had happened to make her lose her memory, but nothing came back.

Janeway studied the other faces. Tuvok…she broke into a grin. One face that she was familiar with; they had been friends for about fifteen years. At least he was safe, that had been her primary mission, regardless of Starfleet orders to capture the Maquis, who were now apparently her officers…Her headache intensified and she left that issue alone.

The fresh-faced ensign she did not recognize. A sweet looking blond woman with unusual clothing- and ears, Janeway noticed- was also unfamiliar, as was the humanoid next to her, with oddly mottled skin and unusual hair. The human blonde with strange implants that she uneasily recognized as Borg looked impassively back at her. And then there was Tom Paris, who had formerly been in prison til she brought him on board as an observer and to provide information on how to capture the Maquis. Now he was in uniform, which led to a bemused smile on her face.

"Tom Paris," she was unable to keep from exclaiming aloud. "Reinstated as a lieutenant? It certainly has been a while." Then her surprised pleasure dimmed, realizing that for him it had not been. It was strange thinking that he knew more about her than she knew about herself…a few years of her life- gone.

They looked confused, and rightly so. Janeway raised an eyebrow at the Doctor, listening with interest to how the hologram would impart the news.

"The Captain has amnesia."

_Well_, Janeway reflected, _that could have been handled better. He probably enjoys the shock value, though. As a hologram, I can't imagine he gets much attention. On that line of thought, how did a hologram end up as CMO? What happened to my medical staff?_

There was shock and concern on all their faces.

"Is it permanent?"

"Can you cure her?"

"How did this happen?"

"How serious is it?" Chakotay, managing to make himself heard above the babble of voices, was apparently calm though inwardly was a different story. "Will her memory return on its own?"

"Perhaps," the Doctor shrugged. "Perhaps not. Perhaps only fragments. It's hard to say, precisely, how recovery will happen, if at all."

"Can you remember anything?" Torres addressed her Captain directly. A thought occurred to her, "Do you even know who I am?"

"B'Elanna Torres. You attended the Academy but left in your second year, after four disciplinary hearings and one suspension," she shrugged, "and later joined the Maquis after a parting of ways with Starfleet. I'm afraid that's all of relevance that I know of you."

"Four disciplinary…?" Paris repeated. "Weren't you busy!"

"They suffocated anyone who tried to breathe through all the rules and regulations in that damn place," Torres seethed, then halted herself with a sharp laugh. "You know, we're continuing a conversation you started about four and a half years ago."

"I'm afraid I don't know," Janeway said, "but I'll take your word for it. So, from that you became one of my senior staff…?"

"Chief Engineer," Torres introduced herself. "This is Tom Paris, flyboy. Harry Kim, perpetual ensign-"

"Hey," the young Asian man protested. "I have hopes, you know, don't shatter them so brutally like that!"

"Here's a thought, Harry," the 'flyboy' said, "Be really nice to the Captain while she doesn't remember you- you know, how you're always causing trouble, rebelling against orders, and getting into fights with other crewmembers on a regular basis. Maybe now you'll have a chance at that promotion!"

"Try to ignore him," the Doctor advised with a long-suffering sigh. "You are fortunate in that respect; it is rather difficult for me, however when he works in Sickbay on a regular basis."

"How do you like that for gratitude?" Paris said indignantly. "I give up my time to come and help you out in Sickbay-"

"I doubt it's for the company," the hologram said ironically.

"Well, I doubt it, too, if it's your company in question," Paris retorted.

The smaller, more ethereal blonde that Janeway had noticed earlier rolled her eyes. "Now, Tom, Doctor. Stop making a fuss, both of you," she said soothingly.

"Yes, well, in any case, I wouldn't advise believing a word that comes out of his mouth," the Doctor continued. "Our Mr Paris rather fancies himself the prankster of this ship, much to the detriment of his colleagues, who-"

"You don't need to bring that up now," the blonde interrupted.

Paris looked around with mock outrage on his face. "Did you hear that? Trying to malign my good name!"

Torres looked at him cynically. "Oh, really? What good name?"

Janeway gathered by the resignation on the others faces that this happened a lot. "I see

Tom, for one, hasn't changed much…"

"We have more important things to be discussing at the moment," again the blonde tried to turn the conversation back to more important channels. "Doctor?" she prompted.

"Yes, the Captain's condition," the Doctor cleared his throat. "Amnesia is most commonly the result of trauma to the head, which leads to haemorrhaging that damages the memory centre," he explained, "Some sections may be damaged or destroyed, associations cut off by an accident that indiscriminately wipes out certain memories yet leaves others unaffected. Sometimes unconsciously, the victim causes the blocked memories, perhaps because they cannot handle certain traumatic events and this is a coping mechanism to enable healing til they are sufficiently recovered to reclaim the memory. I can go into further detail but that is basically the gist of amnesia in layman's terms. In this case, however, there is no evidence of trauma."

"You do not consider amnesia to be sufficient evidence of trauma?"

"Now, Seven, don't be difficult. I meant physical trauma, of course. Amnesia is the symptom, but of what I cannot say with any certainty."

"You can remember your entire life until the Delta Quadrant?" Chakotay ignored this byplay and asked Janeway directly.

"Or a little earlier," Janeway replied, still unable to reconcile the renegade captain of a

Maquis cell as an officer of hers. "I don't recall the events that led us to be stranded in the Delta Quadrant, or how you became part of my crew."

"The Old Man's your First Officer now," Torres let her know.

"Oh, well, given the events of the day, I've lost the capacity to be startled any more. It doesn't surprise me at all that you," she looked at Chakotay, "would be my second in command." A sarcastic smile appeared on her face. "Why not?"

"I understand that this must be hard for you," the blonde said to her. "By the way, I'm Kes.

You allowed me to stay aboard Voyager, as well as Neelix," she introduced the odd humanoid Janeway had noted earlier, "and you saved my people, but that's a story for a different time. I think that for now, while you try to come to terms with what's happened, that perhaps you should go somewhere quieter, familiar…" she looked over at the Doctor, who nodded at her.

"By all means. Perhaps your quarters may stimulate some memory of your life here. I'll study the data I collected before this little meeting, and I'll need you to come in later to update your files, but other than that, I suppose there's nothing much else I can do," he said to Janeway. "Report to Sickbay immediately if you start showing any other symptoms, auditory or visual hallucinations, etc."

"Yes, Doctor," Janeway replied, still tight lipped. The stress was getting to her.

Kes smiled at Janeway. "Captain, follow me?"

She nodded brusquely and exited without a word to any of the others.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It did not help matters that Janeway could not recall her code to enter her room. She automatically put in the code that had been valid on the day she had entered the Badlands and had been momentarily shocked when it was not accepted. The sudden minor setback brought the enormity of the situation home to her as she had not accepted it before- if she was incapable of such a simple procedure, just entering her own quarters, what place could there be for her on her own ship? It was the supreme injustice that the moment she had been working towards ever since she had decided to switch over from Sciences and take the command track with typical single-minded determination, confident that she would eventually achieve her aim and refusing to entertain the nagging doubt that success would elude her, that now she had her objective within grasp, it was tainted, tarnished. This condition of hers could be permanent, and what then of her much vaunted captaincy?

Thoughts consumed with this train of thought, Janeway flinched from a sudden gentle touch as Kes, who had politely refrained from comment during her moment of introspection, reached out to her consolingly.

"Captain, don't worry, your confusion is understandable," the Ocampa said quietly.

"Computer," she addressed the interface. "Enable voice command for Captain Janeway."

"Thank you," she said rather shortly. "Computer, open doors."

Without waiting for the younger woman, she strode in, leaving Kes at the door and took a few minutes to unwind, draining a cup of coffee from the replicator, which thankfully did not require a password and so was easy to obtain. Knowing that she was behaving badly, she at last set the coffee mug down and looked contritely across at Kes, who had til then made pleasant conversation on small matters about the ship despite Janeway's reticence.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to inflict my mood on you," she released a breath of pent-up frustration, despite the calm demeanour she sought to convey.

"I don't think it's unreasonable to be overwhelmed," Kes said, choosing her words with care. Janeway was lowering her shields, and she did not want to reawaken her reserve. "I doubt I would be so handling it as well as you are under similar circumstances."

Janeway considered the serene Ocampa sceptically. "Really," she said flatly, the intonation indicating it was not a question.

"Oh, yes," Kes assured her with the utmost gravity. "I would most likely be throwing the largest of all tantrums-" Janeway could not suppress a grin at thought of this demure young woman acting in so undignified a manner. "-perhaps so dramatic as to rival Commander Tuvok in one of his emotional outbursts," she concluded. "He has been known to break down in tears during one of the Doctor's recitals in the Mess Hall."

Now Janeway laughed. "I can't imagine that at all," she said, trying to picture the stoic

Vulcan who she had been friends with for about fourteen- no, factoring in the missing years, it was eighteen years approximately, actually expressing emotion in such a raw form.

"Mr Tuvok has changed quite a lot since you last recall him," Kes said with an innocent expression.

Janeway chuckled again, then set down her empty mug on the coffee table before her. "You know, I almost feel human again." She looked across at the Ocampa and saw amusement framed by an odd fleeting sadness. "What is it?"

"Oh, it's nothing, Captain."

"Kes," she said mock-sternly.

"It's only that you're so much like the Captain I remember, only- you don't remember me at all. And there's a slight difference, too; not something I can quite place, but you're different in some way."

"I assume you're not referring to my partial amnesia?"

Kes smiled. "Yes, you may assume that. And I'll let you know if I can pinpoint what it is

I'm sensing."

"Understood…and, Kes?" Janeway was now subdued, reflective. "In these years we've known each other, you've never called me anything other than 'Captain'?"

"No," the Ocampa answered slowly, curiosity stirring. "I haven't."

The Captain inclined her head pensively, and then a faint sardonic tilt to her mouth appeared, rousing further curiosity on Kes' part.

"May I suggest you do so now? To be where I am at the moment, bereft of a few years worth of memories of my eagerly anticipated command, makes it rather odd to be called 'Captain'."

"I can understand that," Kes said easily.

"Oh, and in case you're unaware of it, my first name is Kathryn. I would be pleased if you could use it."

"Certainly, Captain. Oh, I'm sorry," Kes laughed.

"_Captain_…"

"It's instinct, and so hard to get used to after years of thinking something different. Certainly, _Kathryn_."

Janeway froze, her expression glazing.

"_It's very peaceful, isn't it…it does seem unfair." _

"Kathryn?"

"_- Kathryn. You never wanted to take what we were willing to give…"_

"Are you all right?" there was urgency in her voice.

"_We will be here for you…just as we always were… I have to go, Kathryn…"_

_You are not alone._

Janeway swallowed, throat suddenly dry, and her eyes burned with the need to blink.

"I'm- fine," she said a little uncertainly. "I can't quite explain exactly what it was I experienced just then."

"A flashback?"

"It was your voice," she tried to concentrate on a memory that was quickly slipping beyond her reach. "I could also hear waves; feel sand, and sun on my face. You were trying to encourage me to do something," Janeway sighed, shaking her head. "I can't remember any more. It just overcame me suddenly when you called me 'Kathryn'."

Kes stilled. "When you asked me a few minutes ago whether in the years we've known each other, had I ever called you by your first name…"

"Yes?"

"I was wrong when I answered no."

"I see," she studied the troubled face across from her. "Why does that disturb you?"

"When you were comatose, the senior staff began rotations where we would keep you company," Kes explained. "It was during one of mine, when I was afraid you were slipping away, that I called you 'Kathryn'."

Janeway considered this. "Well, I don't suppose it's uncommon for people in comas, or even simply unconscious, to still continue to receive sensory information from their environment. Is it?"

"No, it isn't, although extensive study has yet to be conducted on this area. Mainstream research on it in the Federation has stagnated apparently, in the past century or so. But it is puzzling…that you would recall it now, in such vivid detail through flashback."

"It was as though I were at a beach," Janeway confirmed.

Kes shook her head in perplexity. "We should have picked up the associated shift in brain

waves. There was none."

"Let's chalk it down to an anomaly," the Captain suggested. "If I recall anything else, you'll be the next to know. For now, we should keep this to ourselves."

The Ocampa paused, but then nodded in agreement.

"Very well then-" she began, then a peculiar rictus of pain crossed with delight flitted over her face. "Capt- Kathryn!"

"Kes?" she said uncertainly.

She motioned her over, twisting around and clutching Janeway's hand to her back. "There, did you feel that?" she looked back over at Janeway, laughing as she asked the question.

Janeway could feel the other woman's absolute joy, even as a tiny flutter against her hand made her laugh as well.

"Oh, Kes, you're pregnant? Congratulations!"

"Thank you," Kes still looked dazed with emotion. Then she surged upwards, making her way for the door. "Excuse me, Capt- sorry, Kathryn, but I have to go find Neelix. He's the father," she explained over her shoulder as she left the room. "I'll see you later!"

The door shut behind her sudden departure, and Janeway dropped to the couch, abruptly exhausted. There was so much to deal with, and to understand! How she could have lost her memory, how she had ended up in the Delta Quadrant- which no one had fully explained to her yet- how the renegade captain she had been sent to capture was now First Officer on her ship and that Kes, whom she had just met yet paradoxically known for years, was pregnant… Another laugh escaped her at the memory of the Ocampa's dazed appearance, how her previously unvarying composure and dignity had deserted her, leaving behind a giddy mother-to-be who was practically intoxicated with joy.

She released a sigh, rubbing at her head as she wondered what to do. Her logs, she decided. That would get her up to date, and give her some insight into what she had lost, who she had been out here.

Accessing her Captain's logs was an easy task, but she could not bypass the authorization code required to access her personal logs. Shrugging, she began playback from the very first log.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The door chime awoke her to the real world. Janeway rolled her head around on her shoulders, pressing a hand to her aching neck and checked the time. She was surprised to find she had spent practically three hours selectively reviewing her logs, and she hadn't even finished the first year yet.

"Come in," she called, expecting Kes, then stiffening as the Maquis captain entered.

_Don't be insulting, Janeway. He's your First Officer. That has to count for something._

"Captain," Chakotay greeted her impassively. "How are you feeling?"

Janeway shrugged noncommittally, "I'm fine." She narrowed her eyes as a tiny grin appeared on her First Officer's face. "What is it?"

"Déjà vu," he answered cryptically.

She raised an eyebrow, but he seemed unwilling to elaborate.

"Well, sit down, make yourself at home," a little irony coloured her tone. "Coffee?"

"No, thank you. I don't drink it."

"I see."

"Have I lost what little credence I had in your eyes?" he asked with amusement.

"That depends," Janeway said.

"On?"

She looked at him seriously. "Do you like dogs?"

"Yes," Chakotay said, laughing. "Am I forgiven now?"

"You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"

Janeway felt a little odd at bantering with the man like this, at the easy camaraderie that had sprung up in less than a minute. Given that they had previously been on opposite sides of the law, that they had actually been enemies, it was unsettling to now interact in the manner of friends with him.

He must have realized the slight discomfort he was causing her. "I won't keep you long, Captain. I just wanted to-"

"Chakotay," she interrupted.

"Yes?" he said, a little taken aback.

"You have been my First Officer for the past four years. I've been going through the first year's logs, and it seems I held you in high regard. I think I can trust _my_"- a note of amused uncertainty twisted the word- "assessment of you."

"If you can't trust yourself…" he quipped lightly.

"Exactly. The thought was abhorrent to me at first, and it still is, but the fact is that as

I am now, I am incapable of functioning as this ship's Captain, and I think you all know that. So for now, I'm going to- depend on you; make you Acting Captain." A grimace pinched her lips together.

He studied her closely, but did not object.

Of course not, she thought bleakly. They were probably all worrying about how to broach the topic. She was surprised that Tuvok had not approached her on the topic, with his unique brand of Vulcan logic and candour, but that was of no consequence at the moment.

"Computer, recognize Kathryn Janeway, Captain."

"Confirmed identity: Captain Kathryn Janeway," the computer spoke.

"Computer, pass over the voice control of the starship USS Voyager to Acting Captain

Chakotay."

She inhaled deeply as the deed was done and the computer confirmed, "Control of the Starship USS Voyager has been transferred to Acting Captain Chakotay. Voice recognition complete."

Janeway sat back down, realizing that she had been standing at attention. "There are times when I feel like punching the person who programmed that damned composed…placid…self-important voice," she remarked, the light tone at odds with the teeth she still clenched and her rigidly held body.

"I agree," Chakotay said, sitting down. "I might add that I am touched at the gesture. Placing your trust in me couldn't have been easy given the circumstances."

"Yes, well," she waved it off. "As you said, if I can't trust myself, who can I trust?"

He nodded, and let the subject slip.

"So," he nodded at the personal monitor she had been viewing her logs on. "Learn anything interesting?"

"I suppose that depends on how you define 'interesting'. Does learning I stranded two crews thousands of light years from home apply? Or that I performed a procedure that killed a crewmember to restore Tuvok and this Neelix? And how I've had quite a few run-ins with the Borg, not the least when attempting to form an alliance with them?"

"We've certainly not languished in boredom," he quipped.

"That must be the understatement of the century. I hope you do a better job as Acting Captain than as First Officer. What were you thinking?"

"To allow you to do these things?" he completed wryly. "It's never a matter of allowing you to do anything. You must admit you're headstrong, and when you're set on your course, nothing short of a photon torpedo is going to alter it."

She nodded, shrugged.

"And it may take a few dozen of those," Chakotay added.

Janeway sniffed severely. "So what have you been occupying yourself with while I was playing god and single-handedly risking the lives of the crew?" she demanded, trying to do her part in fending off the despondency that threatened.

"I'm in charge of damage control," he said deadpan.

That brought a crooked grin to her face.

"And four years later, here we are."

"Here we are indeed," he echoed.

"I need some more coffee."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was like meeting Kathryn Janeway all over again, starting from scratch, so to speak. Chakotay found the experience bizarre, but fascinating. When he had first seen her after she had pulled off the miracle he and everyone else had been praying for, the first impulse he had was to wring her neck for all she had put him through.

Thankfully, he had restrained himself, though then hysteria threatened when she replied that she felt 'fine'. The line she had reserved especially for him, with the distant, detached manner that let him know he was not welcome. But there was a refreshing lack of subtext, and he honestly felt no snub had been intended. She could know nothing of their history; there was no need for her to act as she had been for the past few years.

_-and now I understand why-_

Chakotay grimly shuttled that thought to the side; he would deal with the guilt later.

Naturally she had been rather reserved at first; he couldn't imagine how he would have felt had he been the one suffering a memory loss, possibly returned to the days when he had been a Maquis, and then to be told he was an officer aboard a Starfleet vessel… It would be as inconceivable as she must believe this alliance with the former Maquis to be.

Then the reserve melted and the mood lightened. The old comfortable familiarity with each other that he had missed was back, and it was disquieting to realize how addicted he was to it. He had to wonder how he would react when her memory returned, and along with it the distance that had grown between them.

Was it too late to hope for more?

"Chakotay, you're light years away."

He looked back at her guiltily, but was saved from having to answer when the door chime rang.

Janeway grinned at him. "Saved by the bell. Come!" she said, and the doors hissed open to admit Neelix, the father of Kes' child, she recalled.

The Talaxian was cheerily toting a large container. "Hello, Captain. Commander," he acknowledged Chakotay before turning his attention back to Janeway. "It's so good to see you up and about as usual. You, uh," he moved closer and asked in a stage whisper, "haven't got your memory back?"

"No, I'm afraid not," she replied, a little bemused at the larger than life personality Neelix exhibited.

"Ah, well," he rocked back on his heels. "Just give it some time."

"I plan to," she assured him diplomatically, then a wrinkle appeared between her brows.

"Now, whatever is that- I could swear I was smelling-?" she looked at Neelix quizzically, and was surprised by the large grin spreading across his face.

"Oh, now this is one trait of our Captain that could never be erased. I just knew you would still be craving"- he opened the lid dramatically- "her most favourite beverage in the world…"

"Neelix," Janeway could only stare at the large canister, stunned.

"It's the real thing," he told her proudly. "Well…not exactly, of course, but the substituted ingredients are very close to the original, I believe and I've been doing quite a lot of research on the subject, so I should know. And there's plenty more where this came from."

"I- Neelix, well…"

Chakotay smothered a grin of his own. This was the first time he had seen her literally

struck speechless.

"Don't know what to say?" Neelix filled in with good humour. "That's all right. Your expression is thanks enough. Here you go, Captain-"

"Kathryn."

"I- beg your pardon?"

Janeway, having regained her composure, smiled at the flustered Talaxian.

"Call me Kathryn," she deftly relieved him of the coffee. "Oh, this smells heavenly. You are a genius. I am glad I decided, or so my logs tell me anyhow, to welcome you and Kes aboard. This is wonderful."

Neelix shrugged, unused to this unfettered enthusiasm.

"Well, you know, it was my pleasure, Captain. Kathryn," he spread his hands apologetically. "It'll take some getting used to. I'm pleased you appreciate the coffee," his irrepressible spirit returned, and he looked meaningfully at the canister she was still cradling. "I'll leave you two alone, now, I'd better be getting back to the Mess Hall. By the way, there's a standing invitation for you there, Kathryn, so anytime you're hungry…"

"I'll know where to go," she smiled.

When he'd left, she inhaled long and deeply, enjoying the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee. "I'm beginning to think this wasn't such a bad deal after all," she murmured.

Chakotay thought wryly that he had never met anyone more of an addict to coffee than Kathryn Janeway. "Did you know," he began rhetorically, " that once you were determined to enter a nebula, and one of the reasons you cited- none of the bridge crew will ever forget that moment- was that 'coffee's in that nebula'…" he chuckled at the memory. "There was such unholy glee in your eyes at the thought."

She looked over the rim of the cup she was now drinking from.

"I can imagine," she answered, amused at herself.

Janeway heard a sigh, and saw that Chakotay now looked rather serious and grim. She recalled earlier, when Neelix had interrupted, he had a similar expression, and she didn't think it was any sort of positive matter he was mulling over.

"Chakotay, what's wrong?" she asked bluntly. Perhaps that would shock him into answering the question honestly, without evasion.

But she should have known he wouldn't. The man looked at her, an ironic half-smile playing on his lips, drawing out the deep dimples in one cheek.

"It's just been a while," he answered at last.

"Since?"

"This," he waved around him at the scene; he casually sprawled on her couch, and she curled up on a chair, idly chatting about whatever came to mind.

Janeway was not quite certain what he meant, and waited to see if he would clarify.

"How far have you gone in your logs?" he asked suddenly.

"I'm still slogging through the first year, just after the time a mysterious entity was twisting the ship around, and rendered me unconscious in a decidedly alien form of First Contact," she answered dryly.

"Perhaps you should skip ahead to about- 49640, or thereabouts."

"What'll I find?"

Chakotay looked away. "Maybe more than I can tell you. You should read it, though."

"All right," she said, uncertain what he was hinting at. "I'll do that."

"Well, Kathryn, I'd better leave you to it. Good night."

"Chakotay," she stopped him at the door, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Breakfast tomorrow? 0600?"

Chakotay turned towards her, and she was again struck by the bleakness in his eyes. He was uncertain what to say. On the one hand, he wanted to preserve this closeness for as long as he could, but on the other…if she viewed the logs, and read between the lines, it may be uncomfortable, to say the least.

Then his jaw set. One time he had accepted her decision to end the emerging relationship between them, perhaps because she was scared, maybe because of her responsibilities or because of her then secret impending death. But a relationship wasn't about one person

making unilateral decisions, and he was partially at fault for allowing her to do so- briefly, he felt amusement at the concept of 'allowing' Kathryn to do anything, as he had teased the woman herself earlier in the evening- but now that he had a second chance, he wasn't going to let it slip.

"Sounds good to me."

He offered her a genuine smile, the tension Janeway had sensed before vanishing, and then left.

She shook her head as she moved back to the monitor to find the log for the time period he had described. There were undercurrents she wasn't aware of, and it was time to lay a few to rest.

Janeway wondered rhetorically, _Why do I get the feeling I'm going to be regretting a whole_

_lot of choices I don't even remember making?_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Looks delicious."

"Fresh from the replicator," Janeway smirked. "I never did learn to cook."

"At least, not without rendering the food inedible," he said with quiet amusement.

Chakotay had not betrayed any visible sign of his edginess, but she could tell he was definitely on edge. And now, she had a little more understanding of why.

The night before, she learnt that the two of them had succumbed to a virus that forced them to remain on a planet, the atmosphere of which somehow inhibited the effects of their illness. For two months the two had lived together, til Voyager returned with a cure from a Vidiian doctor, Danara Pel.

This was on the official record, and all that was on it. Dissatisfied, she transferred her attention to her personal log. Most of her life, she had never had a problem keeping various codes for different functions straight, and had delighted in producing the most complicated variations possible. Her sisters certainly hadn't been amused the time she had encoded their alarm to wake them up at 0600 every morning, and they had not been able to override the lockout.

But now she had the insatiable curiosity to find out exactly what thoughts she had hidden away so meticulously. She went back in her mind over the different codes she had favoured over the years, even back in her childhood. The usual daily-altering combination of a section of that particular day's stardate with a fragment of her Academy entrance score and her beloved dog's name, Molly, didn't work, although she had been using it ever since she had been a cadet. Janeway wasn't the best hacker around, though she briefly entertained the idea of bringing in Tuvok before rejecting it. The Vulcan would just complicate matters.

At last she had been able to isolate the type of password; a simple enough code, three letters and a date. She had tried every member of her family's birthday, though that had been rather unlikely and thought of other significant days before it struck her. This entry was obviously a highly personal one, something she herself wouldn't want to read all too often. The code was more likely to be a reminder of some painful incident in the past, so that the thought of the log would be associated with that event and discourage her from thinking of it, or what it was concerned with; the time period she had been stranded with Chakotay. Classical conditioning.

So she had tried the time when Cardassians had captured her and Admiral Paris, as well as when her mother had been seriously ill and on the verge of dying, then realized that true to the reason behind the code, she was procrastinating.

"Why do I need to do this?" she had asked herself, getting up and pacing the room restlessly. "Is it that important?" Janeway had been psyching herself out of facing whatever truth was in the log, and she was annoyed- for letting 'herself' win.

Sitting down again, she thought back to that bleak day in her life; both father and fiancée trapped and dying, and only enough energy to beam one out to safety. She had not accepted that was her only option: to choose whose life she valued more…and so she had confidently, arrogantly, attempted a maneuver to beam them both up.

It had failed.

Tears stung at her eyes with sudden ferocity. After she had realized her failure, she had not much cared about her fate. Indeed, she had almost welcomed death. After her nickname as a cadet at the Academy, being frozen in ice seemed an apt, if ironic, way to die. With a little shudder, she tried the date her father had died, and for the word 'dad'. It was accepted.

And then she had realized she had opened up Pandora's Box.

"Kathryn?"

Janeway snapped her attention back to the man in front of her, who was waving a hand before her eyes teasingly.

"I'm sorry, Chakotay, my mind just wandered."

He leant back in his chair.

"You found it, didn't you?"

Janeway didn't bother pretending not to know what he was talking about. Her 'other self' had done a fine job of that already.

"Yes, I did," she replied evenly. "You were right."

"About?"

"I learnt more than you could ever have explained to me. And maybe I needed to see it myself to understand."

"Do you?"

"Not really. What I did, yes, the motivations- perhaps. But…no."

The bleak look was back.

"You- she, changed a lot. The Delta Quadrant has that effect."

She was rather tired of that look.

"Stop it," Janeway told him.

That provoked a look of surprise.

"A vast improvement," she approved. "I don't want to be petulant, really I don't, but it certainly is not pleasant seeing what she did to you. Or to the others. They all looked confused, I think, at how I acted. As though most of the time, the 'me' they knew never displayed- gratitude for something they did, for example, or pleasure over an event, any sort of human emotion. It was as though…as though they were trying to prompt me, and were surprised I picked up on the cues."

"To be fair, she was dying," Chakotay said. "This way was easier."

"You're still defending her," she shook her head. "It certainly was easier, for her. She must have done something right to merit such devotion but I think it was rather blind, and she took advantage of it to accomplish whatever that she wanted done."

"You do realize you're talking about yourself."

"But in a way, I'm not," she argued. "It's like a temporal paradox, god forbid-"

"Careful, you'll get a headache," Chakotay said warningly.

She smiled mockingly, then continued, "- as I was saying, it is like a hypothetical scenario where my younger self travels to the future and learns about her older self, what she was became, what had happened to her, etc. but they're not the same people. The experiences that shaped one personality have not yet affected the other. I lack the context that altered me to become her. The only difference in this situation is that no temporal shift has occurred."

"That's actually a rather apt analogy," Chakotay considered it. "We've all seen the difference in you…" he subjected her to a visual examination, taking in the casual dress- a change from the standard uniform that she had taken to more or less living in- and the more relaxed visage that lacked the usual traces of fatigue and tension that had indicated the strain of the burden their Captain had endured on her own. "You are actually a different person, even if trapped in the body and life of your 'future', for the lack of a better term, self."

"Exactly," she said triumphantly.

"But what are you going to do when you regain your memories?"

Janeway stared at him, lost for an answer.

"I don't know," she whispered. "This is rather a unique situation; rarely does anyone have the opportunity to objectively view themselves as I am now. But if I were to revert to who I was before…"

"Even if you do remember"- Janeway noted now he was saying 'if' she remembered, rather than 'when' as he had just before- "you will still have memories of your time as you. It doesn't have to go back to the way it was before."

"Doesn't it?" she asked ironically, feeling a sense of inevitability coming over her, as though the decisions had already been made, consequences occurred and all she was doing here was trying to catch up with something predetermined, that she had no control over.

"Does it?"

"Won't I?"

He smiled reluctantly. "Will you?"

"Mustn't I?" she trailed off.

Chakotay shook his head regretfully. "I have no answers for you, I'm afraid." He noticed her face tightening, expression blank.

"_Then you will be disappointed…I have no answers for you…"_

"Kathryn?" he frowned.

"_I do not know what keeps me here- I am afraid I cannot say why you do…"_

Chakotay repeated, "Kathryn?"

"_I made a mistake, trusted those I shouldn't have, and for my foolishness and short-sightedness, my people paid the price. Can you understand that?"_

Janeway looked across at woman in despair, saw the perfect features of a face that was ethereal in its beauty, connected to this universe only through the pain and anguish that she could discern.

She answered, "Better than you could imagine…I understand how it feels to fail people you are responsible for, having that duty of care as a constant companion…the need to isolate oneself in order to cope, to the extent of pushing others around you away…

"I do understand," Janeway repeated softly, vehemently.

"_Can you?"_

Then suddenly, it overwhelmed her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Upward and onwards they travelled, doing so on little more than belief in their leader, the_

_one who had already failed them. All could feel the shiver of death, those who had been mind-linked now forever silent. Yet they rallied still around the one who led them._

_And she kept her hurt to herself. She could not afford to show weakness, not in such a situation as this. Thrusting the grief and misery deep down inside her almost violently, she strode on, searching for a haven she was not certain existed._

_They made it to the surface, and although blinded at first in the fierce light of a strange orb in the sky. She studied it dispassionately after her eyes adapted; it was not as beautiful as the orb that had belonged to her people, before it had gone missing. Before people had started dying. Before- before-_

_Before them, other creatures stood, faces inscrutable. Such alien faces, she marvelled. One of the children, unafraid, ran towards them, reaching out…_

_That one precious life lingered in her mind, and numbness spread over her as she recalled what had followed that innocent action._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The now familiar sight of Sickbay's ceiling met Janeway's eyes, and frowning, she turned her head to see Chakotay seated at her side.

"What happened?" she asked him.

He was about to speak, but footsteps approached, and amusement lit his eyes, momentarily replacing the worry. He was only able to warn, "I think the Doctor's on the warpath," before the hologram descended and began rebuking her.

"I really couldn't say, perhaps you could tell me," the Doctor said coldly, apparently provoked by the question she had posed to Chakotay. "I thought I had told you to report to

Sickbay if you experienced after-effects such as hallucinations. This is serious, Captain.

You cannot afford to wave that fact away carelessly as you so often do, if you feel-"

"Doctor," Janeway cut in. "Firstly, with regard to waving away facts carelessly, I have no idea what you're talking about- literally. Secondly, as I told Kes," she glanced at the Ocampa who shrugged apologetically, "I wasn't sure it meant anything and that I would speak to you if it happened again."

"Be that as it may," the Doctor did not appear much mollified, "you should have let me be the judge of what the first experience you had with this- whatever it was, hallucination, memory, subconscious details surfacing from some connection you do not consciously recognize, rather than keeping it from me."

"I apologize if I offended you," Janeway looked the Doctor directly in the eye as she said so. The idea of apologising to a hologram would not normally have occurred to her, nor would it have reflected ill on her character, as holograms generally were not classified as 'intelligent life forms'. However, in the brief time she had gotten to know the Doctor, it was clear that he was self-aware and mentally capable. In fact, she had come to quite respect his authority, even if she was not inclined to make it easy for him when he attempted to browbeat her. The apology was simple and sincere, and it was received with startled silence by the hologram, who although exercising enough self-control to keep his jaw from dropping, was nonetheless openly surprised.

Janeway felt some inner satisfaction at having rendered him speechless. "Now will someone tell me what happened?" she redirected her attention to the important details.

"You just froze," Chakotay filled in. "One minute you were lively, animated, next moment-"

he shook his head. "It was like you weren't there anymore."

"What were we talking about?"

Chakotay paused, "The result of regaining your memory," he said smoothly. "Then 'Twenty Questions'."

"But what did you say exactly? I have the feeling this is important; it triggered the flashback or delusion. I was asking you a question, and you said…"

"That I couldn't answer…no, that I didn't have any answers for you," Chakotay said after some thought.

"Yes, that's right," she mused. "Someone else said that, I remember it, I can almost- it was a female voice, there was a woman with me, I think," she looked up in confusion. "She was sad, or bitter, rather, about something she had done. And-" her eyes widened in shock.

"And what?" the Doctor prompted.

Chakotay grasped her hand comfortingly. She tightened her own around his.

The Doctor repeated, "And?"

"I think I know," Chakotay said. "You remembered a little…of who you are."

She raised an eyebrow.

"You spoke, I couldn't hear a lot of what you said, but some of it was unmistakably your other self."

"I remember that," Janeway said tonelessly. "I knew what she felt. I can't even begin to express…" she looked away. Some of her preconceptions about the supposedly selfish, manipulative person she had become would have to be revised, it seemed. Perhaps those adjectives still stood, but the motivations behind them…would bear thinking about.

Chakotay was speaking quietly to the Doctor, who frowned but allowed Kes to lead him away. "Are you all right?" he asked her softly once they were given some privacy.

"I'm fi-" she began, then stopped short. "I'm not, actually, not really," she admitted, wetting her lips. "I'm beginning to understand my other self, and it makes me wonder…whether I'm…"

"Becoming her?"

"Yes. It's somewhat unnerving."

He nodded.

Janeway's gaze fell on a drawing by the bio-bed and looked at it with interest.

"Naomi Wildman drew that for you. A 'get well soon' card."

"Oh," Janeway said, a little puzzled at why a member of the crew would be drawing pictures for her, but returned her attention to Chakotay. "Shouldn't you be on the bridge?"

"I'm sure the Captain will understand," he smiled. "I've got someone far more important things to keep company at the moment."

"Flatterer."

"That implies insincerity," he pointed out.

She closed her eyes in amusement, feeling an irresistible urge to laugh at nothing in particular. Despite the strange things that were happening to her, it somehow didn't seem real, like it couldn't touch her anymore.

And Chakotay was the reason for the change in perspective. She opened her eyes and looked at him, wondering at how much she had come to like him in- less than a day, she realized. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours.

He looked curious.

"Just thinking how much has happened in so short a period of time," she explained.

"Not even twenty-four hours yet," he unconsciously echoed her thoughts. "But I'd better check in with the bridge," he stood reluctantly. "Or else Tuvok will probably log a complaint in my file. Dereliction of duty."

"We wouldn't want that, now would we?" she smiled.

"You'd better play nicely with the Doctor; I've arranged for a meeting as soon as you were

able."

She looked at him darkly. "I'm able." At his meaningful nod at the hologram, she sighed.

"But I suppose I'd see if the Doctor is in any mood to release me-"

"And if he isn't?"

"-and if he isn't, leave anyway."

"Indeed," he mimicked Tuvok, and they both laughed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Seemingly satisfied with matters as they now lay, and having established his place in the pecking order, the Doctor did not make a fuss. He did, however, offer her a kindly lecture, which she did him the courtesy of listening to if not bothering to refrain from rolling her eyes at the condescension.

"Doctor, I'm an amnesiac, not an incompetent."

"It happens to the best of you," he said readily, with not a little smugness in his tone. "That's the way of organic beings. Doomed to suffer the flaws and frailties of your too, too solid flesh…" he trailed off. "Now how did that the Shakespearean passage go…?"

"You do recall when B'Elanna reprogrammed you to experience the flaws and frailties you just mentioned?" Kes asked innocently. "Actually, that was on two occasions, wasn't it?" She did not seem to notice the Doctor's sudden look of dismay and his attempts to hush her. "Once, when you weren't sympathetic to the sufferers of the flu that was going around- and the result was your sneezing and sniffing along with them."

"All right, Kes, I believe that is-"

"And then you experienced pregnancy…" she continued wickedly.

The Doctor hurried off in the direction of his office, muttering something about having to find his mobile emitter.

"Brava, Kes," Janeway smiled at the Ocampa.

"I feel a little guilty…but really, it is a good idea to nip this thing off in the bud. The Doctor's been obsessing a little lately on Shakespeare. He's even considering taking that name for his own."

"Doctor Shakespeare?" she said dubiously.

Kes shrugged. "Exactly. That was why I had to distract him."

Janeway said appreciatively, "You know, you really should receive a medal for services well rendered. Anyone with that deft touch of yours when it comes to handling a sensitive situation tactfully deserves it all right."

"Why thank you, Kathryn," Kes said lightly. "I'll be sure to bring it up at the meeting if you'll nominate me."

"Consider yourself nominated," she laid a friendly hand on Kes' shoulder.

"Let's go make our appearance then."

After the Doctor caught up with the rest of them, fashionably late and glancing nervously at

Kes, who smiled innocently at him, Chakotay apprised the others of the change of command.

That received a few raised eyebrows, but their surprise was reserved more for the changed personality they could detect in the person who had been 'the Captain' to them for so long.

"What do we tell the lower decks?" Paris enquired.

"The truth, I'd imagine," Torres snapped. "This is something too big to suppress."

Kim looked hesitant. "But is this- permanent?"

"The title 'Acting Captain' would not seem to indicate so," Seven said, though she looked challengingly at the man who bore the rank.

"We- that is, Kathryn and I-" the casual use of her first name raised more brows, excluding Kes and Neelix, of course, "thought it would be best for the time being that I assume command, but it is not going to be permanent, no. I am certain that she will be capable of

resuming command of the ship in the near future, but I'd have to pass the buck to the Doctor for a more detailed explanation about the uncertainty inherent to amnesia, if you wanted me to commit to anything other than 'sometime soon'. "And as for the specifics you tell your departments," Chakotay shrugged, "I'll leave it up to your judgement."

"Shouldn't there be, oh, I don't know- a formal announcement of some sort?" Paris asked. "From the woman of the hour herself."

"Saying what exactly, flyboy? 'This is the Captain- sort of, well, not really…or at least, not the one you're familiar with. But that's beside the point…'" Torres said mockingly.

"Hey," he assumed a wounded expression. "I'm on your side here- you were the one who wanted the whole crew to know exactly what going on."

"This conversation is irrelevant," Seven interjected. "Certainly it is not conducive to planning a means of response to the situation."

Janeway smothered a grin as the previously sparring couple were united in their joint glares directed towards the ex-drone. Seven seemed to have a talent for rubbing people the wrong way, judging by the limited interaction she'd had with the young woman. Eyeing the Borg implants once again with slight concern- _is it something people eventually get used to?_ She wondered briefly- Janeway decided she would have to have a conversation with Ms Seven of Nine to determine exactly what her pseudo-future self had been about bringing her on board Voyager. A former Borg drone, she marvelled, as a functioning and productive member of a Starfleet ship- nothing short of remarkable, not to mention the incredible risk involved with such a venture. Her reading had not yet brought her to the point of contact with the Borg and with a small thrill of apprehension, pinpointing the log for that particular encounter suddenly became a priority. For all the destruction the single Borg cube had wrought at Wolf 359, and the countless deaths it had caused, the Federation still knew precious little about its objectives or culture- though as Jean-Luc had insisted, the Borg had no culture as one would describe it, no individual distinctiveness, no shared art or music or entertainment and even its technology was stolen from other species. They existed within a vacuum of sorts, a self-imposed emptiness that drained them of anything but the relentless obligation to assimilate all beings, willing or not.

The relentless obligation to kill all beings, innocent and blameless…

Janeway froze.

A culture of chilling violence and bloodshed that was all the worse for the numbed brutality with which its members dealt death and destruction. One had the sense that they lacked feeling at all, that there was only meaningless devastation for no purpose at all. The wanton slaughter was not for self-gratification or pleasure, only- some sort of compulsion beyond her understanding. But what could it be, if they were not at the mercy of bloodthirsty instincts, a barbarian mentality, what could motivate this carnage?

Alien eyes stared into her own, heartbreaking emotion clearly evident for all the layers of alien subtext that separated their two species. Down to the very core of this being, whoever she was, there was only despair. And right now, all that painfully rending emotion was being directed straight at her, washing over her in waves of agonizing sensation, overloading her brain with this vicious onslaught, and she couldn't see- move- think-

Breathe. Choking, lungs straining, the typically reflex action of taking in oxygen became a laborious task requiring supreme concentration and effort. It was a losing battle, and one that concluded abruptly, as her body gave in and Janeway collapsed.

-End Pt2-


	4. Chapter 4

Pt 3 Passing Through

"Is she ever going to wake up again, Doctor?" a youthful voice enquired in a high-pitched,

piercing whisper.

"Of course, Nurse Naomi," the familiar stern voice answered but in warmer tones than Janeway had heard in the short acquaintance she could recall with the hologram. "The stimulant I administered to her is a fast-acting neural agent that- if you study the tricorder readings- indicate a distinct brainwave pattern shift. Now, do you remember how to read these indicators?"

"Sure, Doctor, that one shows alpha brainwaves- 'a' for alert- which means that the person is going to be waking up soon, right about-"

"Now," Janeway interjected, voice hoarse.

"What a wonderfully accurate diagnosis, Nurse Naomi," he congratulated her with a note of irony, and Janeway heard a smothered giggle from beside her head.

The Doctor hovered in view as she opened her eyes with a feeling of resignation. Gaining consciousness in Sickbay was becoming a waking nightmare and, worse, a terrible cliché. Turning her head, she at last caught sight of this mysterious 'Nurse'- a child!

"Captain!" the girl's face lit up.

Janeway gazed with some bewilderment at the girl who appeared to be half-human and, judging by the tiny distinctive horns on her forehead, half-Ktarian.

"I'm sorry, I don't know who you are…?"

"It's me," the young girl said, equally confused. "Naomi Wildman."

The name seemed familiar. Then Janeway remembered her puzzlement at receiving a 'card' of sorts from a crewmember, or so she had thought at the time. "Are you the one who drew the 'get-well' drawing for me?"

"Yes. Did you like it?" Naomi asked eagerly.

"Very much. You have quite some talent, Ms Wildman," Janeway smiled at her.

"Thank you. And you can call me Naomi," she said. "Even Seven doesn't use such a formal address, and she's pretty formal!"

"All right, Naomi. Then perhaps you should call me Kathryn," Janeway suggested.

The child looked at her with curiosity. "Okay…Kathryn."

"Now, now, don't monopolize our patient's attention," the Doctor drawled with an air of satisfaction. "Although having being able to complete as thorough an examination as I have ever been able to- short of surgery- with minimal fuss from the patient in question, I'm rather inclined to believe you a positive influence. Perhaps I should enlist your services more often, if only to distract the Captain from her habitual fussing while I attempt to practice my medical skills, as I have been programmed to do by the very best."

Janeway threw him a dirty glance, realizing that the hologram was right. She had been so enthralled with the revelation of a child on board a ship stranded in a far off quadrant and the relative normality of that child's social character that being scanned by the tricorder had not set off the usual alarms she was used to.

"But these troubles are my own," the Doctor waved a hand airily. "I shall allow the two of you to socialize on your own while I conduct my analysis."

"As you were," she said, taking his words to heart as she beckoned Naomi to follow her out of Sickbay, forestalling the hologram before he launched into yet another soliloquy.

"Not that I think I know better, Captain, but that's probably not the best way to handle the

Doctor," Naomi observed, skipping alongside her.

"What would you suggest, young lady?"

"Well," the girl said with a serious tone, eyes wide in sincerity, "it helps if you flatter him a lot and pretend to listen to what he says…then he'll do absolutely anything for you!"

Janeway had to laugh at the precocious attitude.

"Now that we're bonding," Naomi went on outrageously, "can you tell me what's been happening to you? I like to keep up with everything that happens on the ship, but when there's emergencies, it takes a while for me to find out the facts."

"I've been sick for a while, and now that I've recovered, it seems I've forgotten some things, about Voyager, the people on it, what's happened…" Janeway worded it carefully.

"Although it doesn't seem as though my illness has been fully dealt with, judging from this very latest Sickbay encounter. It seems as though I can't escape these walls!"

Naomi giggled, but would not be distracted from her fact-gathering. "So, when you say you can't remember stuff, do you mean you have something like amnesia?"

"Yes, you could say that. The Doctor isn't too sure what's happened and at the moment, there's no treatment for it."

"That must be really scary. You can't remember anything, even the major things that have happened?"

"No, so you understand that there are a few things I'd like to talk to people about. Would you mind humouring me?"

"Sure," Naomi readily agreed. "Ask me anything you like. I may not know the technical details like the adults, but I'm pretty sure I can fill you in on all the other details."

Janeway smiled a little at this charming declaration. "Thank you…"

Now that she had a willing assistant, someone whose time she didn't feel guilty about taking up and was not uncomfortable talking about the past few years with as she would with Chakotay, for example, or perhaps Tuvok, Janeway ruefully realized that she wasn't at all sure what she wanted to know! "Why don't we start with you? How long have you lived on Voyager?"

"All my life. I was born here- though that's not completely accurate, because I was actually born on a duplicate Voyager, which was created by a divergence field," Naomi pronounced the scientific term with obvious relish, "that duplicated every particle of matter on the ship.

Uncle Harry brought me over here, because the Naomi and Harry Kim here were dead," a little shiver passed through her at the thought, and Janeway grasped her hand comfortingly, "and the other ship had been invaded by the Vidiians."

"I wasn't expecting such a story from such a simple question," Janeway said, swinging the girl's hand as they walked. "But if you were born after Voyager arrived here, that makes you…"

"Three this year. I know," Naomi shrugged philosophically, "everyone says I look old for my age."

"You do look rather mature for a soon-to-be three year old."

"I think it's the Ktarian in me; mom was pregnant for like, fifteen months or something because of it. I don't know if I could ever go through that," Naomi touched the little horns on her forehead. "That would have hurt. But guess what? How old do you think Kes is?"

Janeway looked at her with amusement. "You're not going to trick me like that. I'm not sure of the exact figure, but I know that despite her looks, she's actually very young by human standards."

"She's turning six this year," the child stated. "Mezoti and me- and I," she corrected herself, "find it funny that she's only a few years older than us, when she looks like an adult and has a real function on Voyager too. She looks after a garden in Hydroponics, so we can have fresh food. My favourite is the _takka_ berries she grows that Uncle Neelix fixes for us with Cherel sauce, although I'm not supposed to have it too often. Mom says it's not good for me," she repeated her mother's words and rolled her eyes.

"Too bad," Janeway said sympathetically, motioning Naomi to enter the nearby turbolift. "Holodeck," she told the computer, before continuing, "And- who was it you just mentioned then? A friend of yours?"

"Oh, Mezoti. She looks mature for her age too, although she has a bit of a problem 'cause she can't be sure exactly how old she is. Mezoti was in a maturation chamber to speed up her aging and mental processes, so she could be as smart as the drones in the Collective. But everyone else on the cube was killed, and she and the others were forced out before they were mature enough by Borg standards. That's why the Borg didn't come for them," Naomi said, then noticed the bemused look on the Captain's face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing. You're just a wealth of information, Naomi, unexpected details and all. Please, keep going."

The child continued her dissertation. "You went over there to negotiate, 'cause they had captured Uncle Harry, Uncle Neelix and Aunty Linda on a standard mission to gather supplies. We were all worried, because it was the Borg, after all"- the pitch of her voice changed dramatically- "and everyone thought there were heaps of adult drones hiding in the areas we couldn't scan, just waiting to capture us and assimilate us… But then you came back with all these kids!"

" 'Kids'? As in plural?" Janeway asked, feeling a little weak as they exited the turbolift.

"Yeah, Mezoti, of course, and Icheb," a smile appeared on Naomi's face at the mention of this ex-drone. "He's really nice, and he always listens to me and helps with me with things

I don't understand. Sometimes talking to Seven about lessons- she teaches me geometry- can be a little…" she winced.

"Challenging?"

Naomi nodded. "She tries, and I've learnt a lot from her, but she expects perfection, and it's demanding. Mezoti can be like that sometimes too, she's a bit bossy, sometimes, and mad when she doesn't understand things. Azan and Rebi, though, they are just- they're such boys!" she said exasperated. "And not like Icheb at all. They keep indulging in childish pranks and they also interrupt Icheb when he's working- he wants to be in Starfleet when we get back," Naomi said aside, and added in awe, "he's already studying for it!"

"What a diligent young man," Janeway said, when the girl looked at her as though expecting some sort of response to that statement.

Seemingly satisfied, Naomi went on, "And of course, there's Hana. She was just a baby, and very sick when she came aboard. Aunty Celes is the one who named her, for one of her little nieces, I think, and she has Hana living with her now, although she- Hana, I mean- still has to see the Doctor a lot," Naomi made a face. "At least when she grows up, she won't remember all those Sickbay trips. Hopefully."

Janeway sighed. "I know what you mean. Unfortunately, I doubt amnesia will be that selective in my case for the future."

Naomi laughed. "Anyway, that's all the offhand information, unless there's anything more

specific you want to know?"

"No, that was very thorough," Janeway demurred. "I believe I do need to be more thorough with my reading; I didn't even realize there were any children on Voyager until I met you."

"And there will be more, when Kes gives birth. I can't wait! She still doesn't know what she wants to call him or her; she hasn't even checked whether it's a boy or a girl."

"I suppose that makes it more fun. You can pick out all sorts of names for both boys and

girls without having to limit yourself."

"I guess. But it's going to be pretty cool. I wasn't allowed to help with Hana because she was very fragile, but Kes says she'll let me help look after the new baby," Naomi looked enthusiastic about the prospect, then suddenly asking, "Do you knit?"

Janeway arched a brow at the sudden change of topic. "Well, yes, I know how to, although I don't regularly indulge in it as a hobby, if that's what you mean."

"Oh, I was just wondering. I know I'm too old for a baby blanket," Naomi said with all the seriousness of a child not yet three years old, "but the- well, the other you from the Voyager I came from knit me a blanket. I still have it in my room. It's really nice."

"On behalf of my counterpart, thank you. And I suppose I could try my hand at it again…it has been a while for me. I might enjoy trying to pick it up again."

"Okay," Naomi said. "Maybe you could even show me how?"

The sudden shyness that enveloped the child seemed out of character, but Janeway had no hesitation at all in agreeing. "Of course, although you must recall one of the most vital rules that every junior crewman must commit to memory…"

"Yes?" she eagerly enquired, with the air that she would agree to anything at all.

Janeway smiled. "Never upstage the Captain!"

"I'll do my best," Naomi promised, then looked towards the Holodeck. "What are we doing, by the way?"

"I just had an idea to see what programs my- other self was playing. The last I recall was this new period piece, although the corset for the costume was ghastly."

"If it was that kind of period piece, wouldn't it be 'old' rather than 'new'?" the girl enquired with an innocent face.

The woman subjected Naomi to a mock glare before requesting the computer play the last simulation Janeway had run on the Holodeck.

"Shall we?" she said, affecting an air of stiff dignity.

"Thank you, ma'am," Naomi replied with an equal measure of formality, though the mode of address caused Janeway to roll her eyes.

As they stepped through the entrance, a startled shriek escaped Naomi as a large, menacing Klingon appeared out of nowhere, issuing a growling declaration of battle.

"Come, you miserable excuse for a warrior," he said with contempt. "Let us see if there is anything worthy of honourable combat beneath that weak human exterior."

A _bat'leth_ materialized in their hands, barely allowing them the chance to grasp it firmly before the warrior swung his in attack. Janeway only just barely deflected it, the impact of the two blades jarring her arms unpleasantly.

_This is no sort of program for a child to experience_, she thought, hastily deciding to turn it off, although fending off the follow up maneuver from the Klingon left her breathless for a moment. Just before she spoke, Naomi cried out with a note of terror in her voice.

"Captain- there's another one coming!"

Janeway was not as successful this time; with two Klingons to battle, one easily struck her when the other occupied her attention. She cried out as very real pain as a shallow wound opened on her arm.

"Computer, end simulation!" she ordered

The Klingons and surroundings melted away, to be replaced with the familiar, rather dull contours of the ordinary room.

"Are you all right?" Naomi asked in concern.

Janeway grimaced. "I'll be fine," she said, gently probing her aching arm. "No serious damage done except to my dignity."

The girl still looked worried. "Aunty Kathryn," she began, leaving Janeway a little bemused at the mode of address, uncertain when she had made the transition from Captain to aunt, "the safety protocols were on, weren't they?"

They looked at each other for a moment, then Janeway closed her eyes, throat uncomfortably dry at the thought of what could have happened, what had almost happened. How many programs like that did she have anyway?

"Well, let's not find out the hard way," she quipped, and pulled up the list of programs from her database. Her lips tightening as a general pattern began to form. "I was hoping that my style of entertainment might reveal the frame of mind I was in," she shook her head. "And you know, I was told that I had been in a coma but no one thought to tell me I had become utterly insane as well."

Naomi giggled at that, "You're not insane, Aunty Kathryn. At least," she added mischievously, "I don't think so…"

"Here I am, baring my soul to you, and this is the reception I get," Janeway said dramatically, even as the impish smile on the girl's face seemed to strike a chord of some distant memory, the feeling that she had seen some other young face smiling up at her in just that same way. Shaking off the memory, she reluctantly added, "I think we had better go see the Doctor. He's not going to be overjoyed with me today."

Stunned at the number of visits she had paid to Sickbay in the past few days, the Doctor greeted her with the blunt summary, "This has to be a personal record, Captain. And might I add, it is a pleasure to note that I am your first measure in this instance, and not a last resort when you have collapsed and another person is forced to drag your non-compliant body to my Sickbay. I really do not understand this objection to my domain; it would be against the oath I am bound by, not to mention my programming, to practice methods of torture- although there are certain crewmembers I would dearly love the opportunity to test the limits of that programming with…" he trailed off, deep in thought, as he completed healing the cut with a dermal regenerator.

"Thank you," Janeway said brightly. "I feel terribly about your grievance, however, I believe it is time we take our leave of Sickbay, and visit Naomi's Uncle Neelix in the Mess Hall…" she smoothly steered the child out of the Doctor's domain once more. "After that fright, I owe you a bowl of- what did you call them? - Takka berries."

"Yes, ma'am!" Naomi said enthusiastically.

Janeway raised an eyebrow. "It isn't crunch time-"

Somehow, the little imp had anticipated her words and chimed in with, "I know it isn't crunch time," so that they spoke the last two words in unison, and then Naomi continued in a singsong manner, "but it sure will be munch time!"

She had to laugh at the quick wit. "How did you know?"

"That quote's legend around Voyager," Naomi said in a knowing way, clasping a hand around the woman's arm and urging her along. "And there's a whole lot more where that one came from…"

In the Mess Hall, the girl proceeded to recall significant quotes as they settled down in a corner with their dessert.

"So after that, every time something weird happened, people would go 'weird is part of the job'," she giggled.

Janeway sighed wryly. "Well…at least people are paying attention when I impart my wisdom. It could be worse."

Neelix approached them with a tray containing several strange contraptions apparently substituting as dishes of some sort. "And here we go, some of my special Takka berries for each of you ladies," he bowed as he served them. "With a cappuccino for the Cap- for Kathryn, and juice for Naomi."

Janeway took a sip from her cappuccino while gazing bemusedly at her meal. It was served in a delicately whimsical contrivance resting on two intricate miniature pillars with what appeared to be vines wreathing around them. The slender reed structure curved into a gentle arc with one end arching higher than the other so as to display a flower of some sort in a striking indigo shade, with contrasting yellow stripes at the centre of each sharply defined petal. So much care for detail and such talent had gone into its creation that she almost expected the bloom to feel as soft and glossy as a real flower. Touching it gently, only the cool sensation of marble revealed the illusion for what it was.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Naomi said with pride, as though she herself had carved it.

"Almost good enough to eat," Janeway said lightly.

At its centre- she now compared it to a small trumpet- was a break in the smooth finish of the pale red stem; a circular hole that was just large enough for the fruit that Janeway spied within to fit through.

Neelix handed her an alien utensil. "For the genuine experience, you use these," the

Talaxian said.

"Uncle Neelix, you didn't…" Naomi peered at the dishes.

"Forget the sauce? Never…" he chuckled, lifting a dish recognizable as a bowl from the back of the tray so she could see it then setting it on the table. "I know how fond you are of it," Neelix winked at Janeway. "Careful she doesn't finish all of it before you get to try it. Why, I remember one time she ate the whole lot when no one was looking…"

"Uncle Neelix!" Naomi cried. "I was a child, anyway, I don't even remember it," she said miffed. "It wasn't like I meant to or anything."

"True," the Talaxian took pity on her. "Sam put her down on a seat and then we were all singing 'Happy Birthday' to- Alyssa Hamilton, I think it was, and little Naomi was so quiet we didn't even realize what happened til Sam saw her sticky fingers dipping back into the bowl."

"Don't worry," Janeway laughed at the blush on Naomi's face. "I have a sweet tooth myself and it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Indeed, and you might say that, Kathryn," Neelix said slyly.

Janeway narrowed her eyes. "What is it?" she said suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing at all…"

"That means something," Naomi piped up. "Come on, Uncle Neelix, tell us!"

"Just a memory that struck me when Kathryn mentioned that sweet tooth of hers- of one night that I doubled back to check on a batch of chocolate brownies I'd been attempting to duplicate after a certain Captain mentioned it was her favourite childhood snack, only to find the Captain herself delicately pinching one or two."

"So," Janeway cut in with a reproachful look at the Talaxian, "how exactly do we eat from these- things?" she raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure Naomi can show you how it's done. She's the only one I trust with them," Neelix said, patting Naomi on the shoulder.

"It's rare that anyone else but me is trusted with using them responsibly," Naomi said.

"After the time that Tom Paris recklessly waged a mock battle with these works of art substituting for phaser rifles, you can understand my hesitance," Neelix said wryly.

"Were you able to repair them?" Janeway asked, who hated to think that such lovely art pieces could suffer such an undignified end.

He seemed gratified at the her concern. "Oh, that wasn't a problem; thankfully, we were all on the holodeck and I had simply used holographic replicas as I didn't have enough originals. You can imagine how thankful I was that the original pieces were not one of those used to wage war…and since then, they have been very carefully kept away from certain crewmembers!"

"How fortunate. Anyhow, I shall strive to be worthy of the honor you bestow on me, Mr

Neelix," she waved the 'fork' he had given her in a mock salute. "They shall be returned to you as I found them."

"Of course, Kathryn. Now, I just have to go and get ready for lunch- the Alpha shift should be finishing in an hour and I still have so much to do…"

"Thank you, Neelix," Janeway and Naomi called to the retreating Talaxian, before enthusiastically applying themselves to their dessert.

"First you pour in the sauce through the flower so that it flows down and coats the berries…" Naomi began to instruct the older woman. "Then you use your- well, I call it a toothpick, if that helps- the toothpick thing to stab at the berry in the center here, and then you just raise it to your mouth…"

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Retreating to the quiet of her quarters after enjoying the treat with Naomi, Janeway curled up on a chair and shut her eyes for a moment. She noticed how odd it felt to relax. It must have been years since she had the opportunity to sit and do nothing simply because she felt it unnecessary to do anything else. In her current position, all she had to do was review her logs, since the experience in the Holodeck left her ill-inclined to experiment with other programs. The one had been enough to convince her that it would only result in yet another next visit to Sickbay and, she reasoned altruistically, one had to consider the Doctor. Seeing her once more might just cause him to blow a circuit somewhere, and then where would they be?

A chime sounded, heralding a visitor at the door.

"Come," she called, offering Chakotay a welcoming smile as he walked in.

"How goes the invalid?" he said jokingly, standing loosely with his hands clasped behind his back.

She gasped in mock outrage, "How _dare_ you?"

"Pardon me, the Doctor is infectious in his jubilation. Having the great Kathryn Janeway in his Sickbay twice in less than twenty-four hours is…a coup of sorts for him. It reinforces his opinion that he is vital and imperative…to the stars continuing to shine, for the planets to orbit around their sun, the galaxies continuing to expand away from each other…"

"In other words, he is the center of the universe and I've been relegated to the role of mere wretched invalid?"

Chakotay shrugged, eyeing her warily, "Don't shoot the messenger."

"But you bring such _glad_ tidings," she said with exaggerated delight. "I am regarded as no more than the sum of my illness, I am doomed to languish in the role of hapless patient, the Acting Captain encourages and actually advocates such a condition…what could possibly make this picture even rosier?"

"Interesting choice of words there, Kathryn," he withdrew his hands from behind his back to reveal a bouquet of the most exquisite roses Janeway had ever seen.

"Oh, Chakotay," she murmured appreciatively, rising to receive them from his outstretched hands. "These are gorgeous…" she grasped the roses, admiring the rich burgundy tones of the flowers, exploring the petals with one finger to feel the luxurious delicate softness and inhaled the pleasant fragrance with a deep breath. On impulse, she embraced Chakotay with one arm, encircling his waist with a quick hug that lasted a bare instant before she looked up with a brilliant smile, "Thank you, they're beautiful. I just have to put them in water…"

Watching her with a bemused air, Chakotay once again contrasted the 'new' Janeway with the old; the much welcomed warmth and vivacity of this Janeway as opposed to the impassive severity of the former, the spontaneous display of affection from Kathryn rather than the cold-shoulder from the Captain. The disparity in their personalities was so markedly evident, yet the transition from a genuinely concerned leader to a detached lone power had been so subtle, so gradual, that it had occurred right under their noses and it had been accepted til degree by degree, their much loved captain had been replaced by the coolly capable and remotely efficient façade she had projected. No one had fought the change, even Chakotay himself had given in under the force of her personality and her determination to focus on ship's business to the gradual exclusion of their personal relationship. He had not wanted to lose her by fighting her wishes, yet that failure had doomed any hope of furthering their friendship. Now that he had the chance to start over with Kathryn, he intended to re-establish the camaraderie between them and, given this encouraging scene, the campaign was off to a positive start.

"There's more where that came from," he said as Janeway finally finished fussing with the flowers at in their new home on her coffee table. "Would madam care for a tour of the Airponics bay?"

"She would be delighted indeed."

Chakotay held out his arm gravely, and after an elaborate curtsey, Janeway took it with great ceremony. Studiously avoiding each other faces at the risk of the tiny smiles tilting their lips breaking out into hysterical laughter, the two left arm-in-arm to explore the airponics bay.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: These characters aren't mine…even though they bear little resemblance to the characters in Voyager canon…

Conclusion Home

"This is Kes' pet project," Chakotay ushered Janeway into the Airponics Bay, to a plethora of exotic scents and a lush variety of plant life that elicited a pleased cry from the woman.

"How lovely!" she said, gazing around. Once could barely see the dull-colored regulation Starfleet walls under the cover of the foliage. Color and ripeness were tangible qualities in the surroundings, with plants boasting fruits and flowers both alien and strangely human. "Tomatoes?" Janeway exclaimed with surprise. She considered them for a moment. "From- New Earth?"

"Yes," he agreed, thinking of how he had sentimentally preserved samples of the tomato plants that had grown in their garden before they had been rescued by _Voyager_ and transplanted them to the Airponics Bay later on. "Did you remember that on your own…?"

"No," she smiled ruefully. "They were in the encrypted personal logs of her time on New Earth. Apparently she quite enjoyed employing the gardening skills we were forced to learn as children, though I can't imagine it myself. I've always been more inclined to admire other people's skill in the area than exert myself in the same field- but she found it satisfying…" she shrugged.

Chakotay was fascinated by the ease with which Kathryn now distinguished herself from the 'former' Janeway- it was as though they were now literally two separate entities, perhaps twins, in a manner of speaking. Brought up in the same environment, exposed to the same stimuli and upbringing but shaped into different personalities altogether.

"Perhaps you may come to find it similarly rewarding," he said, as she stopped to test the weight of a vivid indigo fruit.

"Perhaps…" Janeway trailed off teasingly. "With the right company, of course. There has to be some incentive, after all."

"I'm glad to hear I serve _some_ purpose."

They moved further into the living labyrinth, golden light that mimicked natural sunlight filtering through the branches of tall trees that outlined paths available for the crewmembers to traverse. The setup cleverly used all the existing space to create the illusion of long winding paths, and since the shrubs and trees grew tall enough so that it was impossible to see over to the other end of the bay, it all fostered the impression that the gardens extended over a much greater area than in actual fact. Admittedly, a more rigidly regimented scheme could have been enacted, but with the imaginative Ocampa given free license to do with her vision as she pleased, Kes had been adamant that it would be wild and beautiful as well as functional, a place to lose oneself in wonder and reflection as well as to work and harvest. All agreed it had been an unmitigated success.

When they reached a small courtyard, Janeway decreed a halt, settling on the bench provided to simply sit and admire their environment. Chakotay casually placed his arm around her shoulders as she tested his knowledge of the variety of species that surrounded them.

"_Gavaran_ plums," he said patiently, explaining, "We've come up with our own taxonomical shorthand- rather than combining genera and species, as is traditional, we combine part of the native classification with the closest resembling Federation fruit. It makes it a lot easier to recall which is which, and helps avoid catastrophes like fatally overexposing _Latarsi ixleweed _to light when it was the _Latrosi ishtareed_ that required illuminated surroundings. Poor Kyoto- he absolutely cowered in fear at the thought of Kes' wrath!"

"Kes? I have more coffee in my little finger than she has violence in her entire body," Janeway laughed.

"Don't underestimate her appearance of fragility. Kes can be fierce if provoked!"

"Hmm," she murmured, eyes alighting on a particular bloom that caught her attention. A striking shade of purple, it was especially attractive given its similarity to one of her favorite flowers, the Terran lily. "That looks-"

Chakotay glanced at her questioningly as she stopped mid-sentence, then his hold tightened around her as he noted her frozen expression, eyes unblinking. She was having another flashback.

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Various scenes flashed before her eyes, with sharp raw emotions attached- the sudden panic at finding herself precariously situated on the edge of a cliff; weariness after trudging across miles of desert-like terrain; suffocating in the humidity of a jungle environment, deafened by the cacophony of animal life; despair at collapsing in a snowdrift, too weak to move, too lethargic to care about going on...then the arrival of another person.

"_Excuse me? My name is Kathryn Janeway, and I'm here to help-" _

_The litany froze in her throat as she saw the other woman's face: her own. _

"_It's going to be alright. Just stay with me…" _

"_Why are you doing this?" the other asked, her voice thin, brittle…"Don't you know?"_

"_What?" _

"_I already am dead."_

"I don't understand," Janeway murmured out loud. She viewed the exchange from both perspectives, experiencing the fatalistic persona as well as the other vibrant, more animated one; the dual experiences overlapped the other, voices intermingling, identical faces frozen in tableau, the lustre of life fading in this reverberation of the past event.

"_I do understand."_

She looked to the side, saw herself in conversation with a woman. Saonae. Saw the grief that gripped this alien woman, the intense mental turmoil that held her in its clutches and would not let go. Saw the shudder that passed through Janeway as she relived the alien woman's experiences.

_ My people were slaughtered. We, who had committed no wrong, violated no laws…suffered the misfortune of encountering this war-mongering sadistic race…they set upon us without warning. First they killed the young…a child who ran to greet them, unknowingly greeting her own death. Poor child. My poor followers. Without exception, they all fell before the slaughterers- all but I. For what purpose did I survive? _

Janeway began to understand. At first, she had been uncertain what the images portrayed- two groups, certainly, one vulnerable while the other was armed. The assault of the warriors, the massacre of the defenceless…yet the Ngatalh made no move to defend themselves or to flee. Instead, they closed ranks around one figure…

_ I could feel the power moving through the air- a tangible force. It enclosed me, removed me from the scene of their suffering, transported me to safety. I was more powerful than any single individual amongst them, but together, they amassed greater powers than I could have imagined possible. _

"They sacrificed themselves for you," she said as realization dawned. "They allowed themselves to fall victim to the attackers in order to gain time to save you."

Saonae now held her gaze, Janeway's older twin forgotten.

_ And indeed, I am here. Yet where are they, who gave up their lives for me? I remain, while they live and love and breathe no more. And the burden of remembering their names, their faces, their lives…falls to me. I alone recall them. _

"But what does this have to do with me?" she asked the alien woman urgently. "Why am I"- she threw a glance at her other self- "are _we_ mixed up with you? What happened to us?"

_ It has nothing to do with you! _

She gasped, the psychic backlash stinging her.

_ This was not your heartbreak, your tragedy…it happened to me, _I_ was- it shouldn't have…I _couldn't_… _

Tormented grey eyes closed…and then her anguished visage was overlaid with another image, one of light-hearted merriment with lips quirked into a cheerful grin-

…Janeway blinked at the abrupt transformation…

-and suddenly, the connection was broken, as though a circuit had blown out. She shuddered at the almost physical severance, flinching closer to the person beside her, who held her tightly in a show of comfort.

"Chakotay?" she opened her eyes to see the relieved expression in his own eyes as he looked down at her.

"Kathryn?" the gentle address spoke of his concern for her.

She shook her head mutely, unable to voice the impact of what she had seen, and what she had pieced together. Instead of trying, she simply relaxed into his arms, remaining silent. And there they remained for quite some time, each lost deep in thought.

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"You want to know where we found this specimen?" Kes asked, surprised at the fervor with which Janeway posed the question.

"It's very important, Kes," she said, urgency thrumming through her body. It occurred to Janeway that this specific flower was somehow linked to the alien woman that she had seen in her flashback- it was the flower that had triggered this particular episode, and there seemed to be a greater significance to it, some fleeting recollection of having seen it earlier, although she had been unable to pinpoint it yet. But if they could find out which planet the flower had come from, they were a step closer to locating this mysterious woman, who seemed to be influencing events and may possibly have answers about all that had happened.

"I'll try and find out for you," Kes ended their rapid conversation through the ship's personal comm. system.

"I don't know who she is, Chakotay," Janeway admitted. "Or if she can help. But I know that she is involved somehow, she's the one who did whatever it was that changed me and I have to find out what and why. Except…I don't think she really knows, somehow. She became incoherent- with confusion? Or an emotional breakdown…at least it didn't leave me unconscious this time, I was dreading awaking to find myself in Sickbay yet again!"

"Thank the Spirits for small blessings," he said dryly. "And Kathryn, you don't need to justify yourself to me. If it means that much to you, then there isn't one crewmember on the ship who would oppose you in this matter."

"I'm not sure, that Seven of Nine seems antagonistic enough. Or rather, her manner provokes antagonism from others, even if she doesn't intend it to," On a side note, Janeway added, "She's been avoiding me, I think."

He sighed. "The Captain was the one person who had time for her whenever she needed it, and even when she felt she didn't, just to talk things over with or to clarify confusing shipboard subtleties. She was also the one who gently propelled Seven into the social arena, enlisting Harry Kim to assist her…and now the two of them are a couple. Oddly enough, they suit each other so well but it was never apparent to the rest of us before it actually happened!" Chakotay shook his head, still amused at the green ensign having grown up to guide another emotionally insecure individual towards maturity. "Though looking back on it, maybe the Captain knew, and that's why she instigated their dealings with one another. Anyhow, losing the woman she knew and facing the prospect of finding a total stranger peering at her from behind this familiar face," he momentarily cupped her face in a teasing gesture, "is not something our resident drone would find palatable. She detests change."

"Change is inevitable, however, accepting it…" she grinned at him, but it was not returned.

"Have you thought about what will happen once you find this woman?" he was serious again, returning to their previous conversation. "If she was responsible, and undoes what she wrought…how it will affect you?"

"You mean-" Janeway said carefully, "What will happen if the Janeway you knew is restored and the person you've gotten to know since then is lost?"

"So you've thought about the personal ramifications?"

"I _need_ closure," she said. "I can't live the rest of my life having these flashbacks and wondering…it has to be resolved, once and for all."

"Then let's go to Astrometrics and see if we can't chart a course to your planet."

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"It was the first habitable planet we had passed in a while, and a veritable paradise. We needed to recuperate after our captivity at the hands of the Hirogen. I thought it was unusual for the Captain to allow us the week to unwind- with her, it had always been rush, rush, rush; cut corners here, enter nebulae there, engage in battle for transwarp coils…almost suicidal in her haste to reach the Alpha Quadrant," Chakotay recalled. "Now I know that she must have realized her time was up, and that there was no use in pushing us to the limit anymore. She actually- came to me, before she collapsed. But I was looking after the girls, and she refused to admit there was anything of importance to divulge."

"There was nothing you could have done then, Chakotay," she said softly. "And neither is there now. I have to do this alone. It's the only way."

They were the only two in the transporter room, since he had dismissed Lewis temporarily from duty. It gave them privacy for their final exchange before she beamed down alone to the planet's surface, where she would hopefully encounter the woman from her flashbacks. Sensors could not locate any humanoid lifesigns, but given the nature of her mental powers, Janeway pointed out that it was possible she had concealed herself somehow. As she told Chakotay now, their only recourse was to allow her to meet the woman on her own terms.

Janeway ascended the transporter pad, heart heavy with anticipation. She found it unexpectedly hard to break her gaze from Chakotay's, neither wanting to avert their eyes first. She had casually thought of what result may come of this venture, but only now that she was on the verge of leaving did the implications strike her fully. When she returned, all this…the tenderness and affection that she acknowledged and returned to her ex-Maquis First Officer may be overwritten by the cool aloofness and awkwardness of old. In the short time that she had enjoyed getting to know him once more for the first time, Chakotay had taken on an overwhelming significance to her, and the thought of losing the tantalizing possibilities of their new relationship…pained her.

She could see the same awareness in his eyes. The "personal ramifications" he'd referred to earlier faced her now, steady and confronting, no longer content to remain stifled by her new 'savor the moment' attitude. _Apparently repression is a common theme with us Kathryn Janeways_, she thought ruefully.

Impulsively, she leant forward and placed her hands on his shoulders in order to better balance herself as she pressed her lips against his. This was no friendly peck, no casual farewell; it was desperately exchanged, passion no longer restrained and they appeased their mutual hunger for one another…Janeway's hands clenched on his shoulders as he grasped her waist, pulling her closer. It ended on a sweetly lingering note, each easing apart with the greatest of reluctance.

Chakotay took his position at the console after another moment, poised to tap in the command to beam her down.

Her voice was low, slightly husky but determined, "I'm ready."

A nod greeted the statement. "Be safe," he said in return, equally soft-voiced as he keyed in the final command and she began to dematerialize. Janeway looked wistful, opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it and simply smiled affectionately.

Then she was gone. He gazed at the space where she had just been, empty now, devoid of the woman who had reclaimed his heart. The silence was oppressive, emphasizing his solitude. After confirming the successful transportation, he left for the bridge, feeling Ill-inclined to pine away for Kathryn as she completed her task on the planet below.

He arrived to a flurry of action, and could sense the unsettled atmosphere.

"Are you still tracking the Captain's lifesigns?" he demanded, reverting to the formal title as his instincts bombarded him with worst case scenarios.

"We are experiencing difficulty in that endeavour," Tuvok said, not visibly shaken, but his tone carried a degree of disquiet.

"What does that mean, exactly?" he asked sharply.

Harry Kim raised anxious eyes. "I'm sorry, sir. We can't find her bio-signature at all."

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Finally, Janeway remembered where she had seen the flower from. It was almost like trying to recall a dream, only catching wisps of details out of the experience. However, if one happened to discuss a relate topic or was placed in a similar situation, that sometimes aided in retrieving specifics from the dream itself. Now that she stood in this place, it reminded her of what had occurred before.

_A melodic voice called out to Janeway… "Oh, Captain, it's wonderful here!" the Ocampa emerged from a nearby path, eyes shining with pleasure at the lovely surroundings, hands filled with flowers. _

_Kes picked out one flower from her bouquet and held up a deep purple bloom. "Here, Captain. Isn't it lovely?"_

She wondered what the significance of that encounter had been. Certainly, it had not been the real Kes, attempting to utilize her mental skills in an attempt to communicate with the comatose Janeway, otherwise she would have mentioned it. Nor was it a hallucination, for here she stood, in the lush sanctuary of her vision. Was it merely a beacon of some sort, intended to draw her back here, to this planet? For what purpose?

"Kathryn Janeway," a lilting child's voice called to her.

She turned to see the mischievous eyes that she so vividly remembered from the last flashback, gleaming grey in a face with the rosebud mouth that easily quirked into playful grins. Another phantom from her past dream-like experiences.

"You're right about that. Who are you?" she said cautiously.

"I've been here a long time," the evasive answer was incongruous with the deceptively youthful appearance of the child. "So has she. You're new, though. Newer than new, since you came about because the other you is still here," her small nose wrinkled. "If you know what I mean. It's difficult to explain, you see."

"So you know what happened to me?" Janeway pressed, hoping to finally get some straight answers.

She shrugged, long blonde curls cascading over her shoulders.. "Sort of. A lot of it is all that messing about with the fabric of time and space that smart people talk about all the time. She didn't meant to involve you, though."

"Nevertheless, I seem to find myself caught up in it," Janeway pointed out.

The girl considered her thoughtfully. "Well, this may not be the right way to tell it, but with the shifting realities and different perceptions and stuff, who knows what really is?"

"Too true. I'll be happy for an explanation of any kind at this point."

Taking that to heart, the girl launched into her story. "The basics. Her name is Saonae, she was the leader of our people, except a slaughter happened, and, well… Can you _imagine_ having being the very last member of an entire society of people that had otherwise been destroyed in one go? It wasn't very good for her, and unfortunately, she…well, she was depressed for the longest time. Still is, as you can probably tell. She's not all there at the moment, and I mean that both literally and- no, I'm joking, she's still sane. In her rational moments, anyway."

The girl's eyes were downcast for a moment, as though her blithe words were just a cover for a deeper emotions, but she recovered quickly.

"Let me show you around while we talk. I don't like standing still for very long."

Janeway accompanied the girl without protest, although she was rather immune to the natural beauty that surrounded her, caught up in the narrative.

"She twisted things in this area for quite a while," the girl went on. "She extended herself, stretched to the limit so that she wouldn't have to feel so much- she wouldn't have to remember all that happened her, she wouldn't have to face the loneliness constantly. Before, she never would have considered journeying this far from what she called home, now all she yearns to do is leave it behind. But no matter how she tries to escape it all, it's like however far her mind roams, it's still tied to her physical being here. That's really left her in limbo.

"You might be interested to know that this is all her creation," the girl waved around her. "It's so strong, it's taken on its own life. At least, it keeps me entertained when I go exploring. I don't know what's going to happen if it evolves humanoid life- whether they'll be locked into this fantasy or if they'll emerge into the real universe. 'Real' as in shared, I suppose. This is a real experience, but only to you and me, because we' re experiencing it for ourselves."

_That_ staggered her a little. "So my ship can't find me at the moment, if this is her reality?"

"No, they can't. You're tucked away into a little pocket universe, outside of their governed existence. She bends all kinds of rules, I hope you see that now!"

"I most certainly do…" she said. "So what is your role here? You must have been one of her people's children, unless you were drawn into her web like I was."

"That's a pretty good analogy. It's like she wove her web and then later on, you got caught on the sticky bit, but it wasn't intended to happen at all. She just wanted to keep busy, weaving away."

"You keep avoiding my questions on who you really are," Janeway observed.

"It's just…I haven't thought of myself as who I'm meant to be in a long time," she let her hair fall in a shimmering curtain that obscured her face. "Who I was no longer applies, not here. But if you really have to know, I was the first child to fall before the destroyers of our race. Actually, I suppose you would have to know about that if I was going to properly explain to you. It's a story that's been waiting a long time to be told, and I think you'd give it the respect it deserves.

"You see, it was because she focused her powers on saving me that she missed what the rest of our people were doing. They put themselves into the working that would save her without really thinking things through. A knee-jerk reaction to the desperate situation. Ordinarily, she would have noticed and been able to intervene, but as it was, all her energies were spent in anchoring me to this world. It's kind of ironic, since I may as well be dead, for all she realizes my existence. The working was so powerful that once she finally awoke to what was happening, they had gone past all hope of undoing it, and she was severed from the common link. They hoped that she would save the children, be able to re-establish our society once more, but it was such an ancient ritual, with such immense demands, it ended up binding those of their blood into it as well. What they accomplished was two-fold; saving her, and retribution against those who murdered us. Each warrior that slew one of our people received equal measure of retaliation, til in the end, no one was left, except…"

"Except Saonae," Janeway said, releasing a heavy breath at the tragedy of this tale. "But how is it that you are still here if the rest of your people have-" she sought for an appropriate euphemism, "passed on?"

"I told you she was in limbo, well, that also applies to me. She bound me here, in her working. Despite all her efforts, it was not enough to restore me fully, she could not heal my body- but unwittingly, those efforts were enough to keep my spirit here. So the knife cuts both ways- she does not know of my presence here, it is impossible for me to breach the barriers around her mind…and I cannot pass on, as you put it," there was a hint of amusement in her voice, "I am literally a ghost to her, almost a figment of her imagination, something she may have dreamt up a long time ago." Clear sorrow permeated her features, revealing the long and forlorn years that been endured by the girl.

It puzzled Janeway for a while, til she finally put together the plain, visible facts. Before making assumptions, she had to ask, "Who are you really? Why did Saonae expend so much energy on anchoring you here, to the extent that she was blind to what her people were doing?"

With a bittersweet smile, the girl said slowly, equally weary and relieved at finally making the admission, "I was known as Liandre…her daughter."

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Saonae was beyond the reach of such claims on her. She was travelling far, far from her home planet, mind encompassing thousands of worlds- old and young; barren, forested; uninhabited, populated. All received casual observation, at the least, though the ones that teemed with humanoid life tended to be dismissed fairly early. They were all the same, at the heart of it all- vulnerable, corrupt, weak, tyrannical…very little purity and innocence or contentment existed amongst 'intelligent' life. What few that possessed such qualities were divested of them in short measure, mostly by tragedy, often suffering lives cut short. Children were born with such promise, but they suffered, and from that, grew to inflict similar casual, unthinking harm or became wretched victims of the same.

She hadn't always been so cynical…once, life had held hope, the promise of adventure and discovery while assuring peace and happiness. Of course, she had learnt better.

_Life has many painful lessons_, the Captain said in agreement. _We've both learnt them well. Though whether we handled them the best possible way is debateable._

_And down that road lies all the pitfalls of self-doubt, gloominess and despair. What other choice could we have made, what more could have been done, how could the tragedy have been averted?_

_You_ _never did finish telling me that story of your past_: the Captain reminded her. :_We were rather suddenly interrupted, as I recall._

_As we both saw, Kathryn certainly is taking on a life of her own._

_And much good may it do her_. _So she recovered, she's perfectly healthy now, and has reintegrated with the rest of the crew?_

_While_ _you remain here with me_, Saonae said in assent.

_I have no objections. My time was there was done. Now she must assume the mantle of responsibility for seeing to their welfare and getting them home, _she said_. What is _Voyager _doing now?_

Saonae redirected her attention back to the ship, and was bemused not to detect Kathryn's presence on board. Yet she could sense her somewhere closer…and suddenly, her senses flared in alarm as a hand took hers, pressing insistently before shaking her shoulders. How was this possible? She was immune to physical sensations in her current state- it could only be explained if…

The thought was abandoned midway through as she abruptly reverted to her physical body, located in a lonely overgrown shrubbery, swathed in tendrils of a vine that produced delightful looking purple blooms…

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"What are you doing here?" she demanded of the human woman, composure shaken.

"I came in search of answers, and was guided here," came the unruffled reply. Janeway rather enjoyed being the one who knew what was going on for a change.

"But how could you know where to come?" asked Saonae, voice rusty from disuse, dazed by the sensation of being confined to a corporeal form once more. If it were not for the momentous occasion of being discovered by another, she would not have resumed it.

"Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long for a guide." Seeing the questions that were yet to come, Janeway forestalled them, going on, "I know what happened all those years ago, Saonae. You recall from your point of view, but you don't have the benefit of another's recollection- they did not sacrifice themselves only on your behalf. It was a desperate attempt to preserve the children as well, the foundation on which a new society could be rebuilt. But they could not complete the ritual as it was meant to be, it drained them and took their flesh-and-blood as well, those children they tried to save."

"If they had not tried to save me along with them…if I had participated in their working, rather than remained oblivious to it," she said bitterly.

"That was never going to be an option, they wouldn't have asked it of you. Besides, I have no children of my own, but I do know how strongly the instinct to protect their life must be…none of them would have condemned you for trying to save your only child."

Saonae's face twisted with remembered grief. "How can you know this?"

"I'm no medium, but believe me when I tell you that your daughter never left you. Whatever it was that you did, you couldn't bring Liandre back from the dead, but you did bind her spirit here," Janeway said, dismissing all objections from the scientist in her. This was too important to start doubting and questioning it now.

"No," Saonae said, refusing to believe. "I would have known- don't you think I would _know_ if my daughter were here?"

Liandre moved towards her, kneeling down to stare directly into her mother's face. "It's me, Mother. I'm here…" No reaction. "She still doesn't see me," she told Janeway in a remarkably composed tone. "Her barriers are up too strongly- being in this form merely concentrates their power, because she is uncomfortable with the limitations of her body and grows more defensive."

"I don't know how to convince you to see what's right in front of you," Janeway said with a sigh. "She says you're shutting her out, she can't reach you through all these barriers."

She was on her feet in an instant. "Don't say that to me about my own child," Saonae warned her.

Janeway listened to what Liandre was whispering to her, then said, "Your daughter asks if you remember the time she hid in the crystal cavern and played with the polished mineral gems, pretending she was the _leranx_ of legend, guarding its hoard? After that, you teased her by calling her a derivative, '_leeranix'_, which also translated into 'little monster'."

Saonae felt dizzy, as though the planet had just rapidly, erratically spun around under her feet and she had lost her bearings. "It's impossible," she whispered. To believe that she had damned her cherished only child to a long, lonely existence, unable to seek rest and resolution…that she had been there, within reach for so long, if she had not inflexibly shut herself off from personal contact…

"But I want so badly to see her…why can't I? I just don't sense her anywhere!" she cried out in anguish.

"I think it may also have something to do with what the others did," Liandre said at last, eyes unwavering from those of her mother's, as though willing her to finally see, hoping that the connection would enable Saonae to break through the barriers that separated them. "When they isolated her from the link, to prevent intervention in what they were trying to do, it may have actually blocked her from sensing any of our people. Otherwise she would be able to see me right now."

"Can anything be done about it? I mean, if I can see you, surely…"

All doubts about Janeway had been assuaged. "What? What is she saying?"

"She thinks that it may be possible your own people somehow prevented you from sensing any others when they blocked you from their 'link'," Janeway said.

"No," she shook her head determinedly. "This has gone on too long- enough!"

With all the despair and fury that had constricted her heart for so long, Saonae waged a fierce internal battle, dismantling each and every shield she had thrown up over the years since she alone had survived the massacre of her people, battering at every barrier that enclosed her from the outside world. It was past time for her to emerge into reality, rather than grieve in one of her own making!

She was weeping. All those safeguards had allowed her to retain some measure of control, now stripped bare of their protection, the feeling of solitude, emptiness washed over her. She reached out, knowing that no one would be there-

-yet her mind connected with one startlingly familiar, as dear to her as life had once been. The person who had made life the joy it had been. The one person she had loved more than anything in the world.

Arms enclosed her, offering their comfort. A head nestled close, bestowing a peck on her tear-stained cheek. So real…

Feeling like an intruder, Janeway quietly walked away.

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_It was worth the wait, Mother, for you to finally recognize me once more._

Saonae hugged her daughter close. _Yes, but I still regret my actions- I should have let you go, when your time had come. If not for that, you would have had peace all these years…but you're right, I won't waste time on regrets anymore. I have to prepare for what must be done now._

_For what it's worth, I'm sure you're doing the right thing,_ she assured her mother.

_Thank you for that, dear one._

In their culture, the thought of taking one's own life had been anathema, and that bias had been all that kept Saonae from seeking her own release. Giving up one's life to save another, however…

_What are you planning_? the Captain asked, a feeling of foreboding striking her.

_You were the first being I had communicated with on a personal level, Saonae said. It was because I could sense a similar grief in you, although for vastly different reasons. You still had your people, but you were soon to lose them. You were in an equivalent position of power and responsibility, but you would no longer be able to fulfil them. I, however, am in a position to rectify that._

_This fatal illness of yours does not trouble you here, but if there is one thing I have learnt, it is that you do not cheat death- somewhere, someone pays the price. Now it is my turn. You still have so much left to accomplish, your task is left unfinished…and your life has remained stagnant for too long. Perhaps with this second chance, you will feel entitled to enjoy it a little more_. there was a sly twinkle in her eye. Though the elder Janeway remained unaware, _she_ knew what had been happening between Kathryn and Chakotay.

You would do this, for me? the Captain asked in shock.

_It is not merely an altruistic gesture, it is for my benefit as well. This way I can end my life with some dignity, for not wholly selfish reasons, and with my passing, my daughter shall not be bound here any longer- we shall be free at last. We all win_.

Janeway, touched by the woman's gesture and unable to find the words to express her feelings, looked around at the testament to natural beauty that Saonae had built as a sanctuary. What will happen to this place? she asked.

_It has been tended to for so prolonged a period of time, I do not believe it will merely vanish once I am gone. Actually, I have high hopes for this place. Perhaps in time, it will accommodate a new race of beings and become home to them._

Finding it awkward to meet the other woman's eyes, Janeway nonetheless managed to say the two simplest words of gratitude, _Thank you_. She shook her head helplessly. It seems so inadequate for what you are doing for me, but…

_Kathryn Janeway, you have opened my eyes once more, I see what truly matters to me most in the world. Now I have a chance at peace, to rest after countless years of a nomadic lifestyle. I thank you in return._

They shared a long gaze of understanding and support, before Saonae moved to place an arm around her daughter. _What do you think, shall we go now_?

_I thought the time would never come_, she grinned her assent.

And it was at this point in time that the younger Janeway, still diplomatically waiting for the reunion to wind down, felt a dizzying feeling overcome her. It was as though the world twisted and melted around her, leaving her no physical means of support, pulling her down into this whirlpool of sensation…

Someone else was there with her as well. Straining to see, she managed to make out a countenance as familiar to her as her own- merely a few years older.

"What's happening?" she shouted.

A joyous smile spread across Janeway's face, at odds with the perpetually wearied expression that had long staked claim to it. "We're going home!" The strain and fatigue that time had worn on her face disappeared, melting away like mist in the presence of the sun. They were returning home…

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Harry Kim had spent a most uncomfortable shift on the bridge, with Commander Chakotay demanding to know of any change every few minutes. Yet each time the answer he had been forced to impart was, "None," no trace of Kathryn Janeway on the planet's surface, no evidence of any other life forms in the area, no sign that…his eyes grew wide as finally, _finally_ something caught his attention. "Sir?" he said, looking around at the Commander with excitement.

"Have you found her?" Chakotay asked tautly.

"Yes, Commander!" It was the oddest thing…

"Have her beamed up immediately," the last thing he wanted was for her to disappear again. She had been down there on her own long enough.

"I can't do that, sir," Harry Kim negated his command.

His heart plummeted. "Ensign?" Chakotay said warningly.

"According to sensor logs, she just appeared in her quarters, out of nowhere!"

Now it was Tuvok who expressed his misgivings. As Security Chief, it was not reassuring to have mysterious transportations occur onto the ship, however, Chakotay was beyond caring. Quickly transferring command of the bridge to the Vulcan, he headed for Janeway's quarters with haste.

His steps slowed as he approached her door. What reception was he going to encounter? How would she greet him- with all the fervor of their farewell…or the formality that he had despairingly endured in the past? _It doesn't matter_, he told himself. _We've gone past that point, and for a change, it was at her initiative. Don't give up on her now._

The door hissed open at that moment and Janeway had to abruptly restrain her forward momentum to avoid collision. "Chakotay," she said animatedly. "I was just coming to find you…it was unbelievable what just happened…"

He sent a prayer of gratitude to the Spirits, thanking whichever one had taken a hand in returning her to him. For this lively, vibrant woman embarking on a breathlessly rapid series of explanations was the one he had loved all these years. Ushering her back into her room, he indulged her fervor over the extraordinary experience she had gone through and then, when words petered out and they gazed silently at each other, questioning where they now stood…he took the next step and sealed their future with a blazing kiss that promised only the best was yet to come.

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The end! Now all you have to do is review…


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